And That's The General Idea
by Vixen2004
Summary: Dating Kairi is like an imminent death sentence - comparable only to stage three terminal brain cancer or a mortally wounding gun shot ... to the face. You choose. Kairi X Roxas.
1. Forever 21

_And That's The General Idea_

o-o-o-o

"Dammit, Kairi, why don't you just go out with me?" Sorry, Roxas, she likes her boys to be able to form coherent sentences. KairiRoxas.

o-o-o-o

Kairi is going on and on about arm muscles – because apparently well formed biceps are of great importance to her now that she has entered the threshold of eighteen – and Roxas is trying to flex to make himself look stronger but he's too short, and he kind of already knows this.

Still. He should get points for trying.

"And then – aw mi gawd – get this: he tells me he's in the Destiny Islands militia. Can you believe it?"

Roxas' face scrunches up; something unpleasant and much akin to a washboard.

"Yes, but can he form a coherent sentence?"

Kairi rolls her eyes.

"Pu-lease. It's not like I actually _talked_ to him."

"No – of course not. Just gandered."

"I'm entitled," Kairi informs her companion, who's face was still trying to unravel from its previous contorted visage. "Besides, you would have too if you had seen his biceps."

"Would not," Roxas spits defiantly. "Though I may have asked to see his badge. Police really seem to be cracking down on teenage prostitution these days."

He eyes Kairi's child size tank and boy shorts that are practically riding up her butt. He knew it was summertime, but did that really make it socially acceptable to paint on your clothes?

"Gods Roxas – I'm not _that_ bad!"

She pulls her shirt down for emphasis.

Truth is: yes, she kind of is that bad. Everything has gotten shorter and everything has gotten tighter since her ascent to the twelfth grade. At first, Roxas pretended not to notice. She was his best friend and best friends are not supposed to have _boobs_. But testosterone and an ample amount of hormones had prevented him looking the other away for long.

Especially given Kairi's current…ensemble…at the moment. There wasn't enough fabric to constitute the aforementioned as an actual outfit.

"So, tell me Kai, is that a skirt or a very wide belt?"

She hisses through her teeth and doesn't bother to correct him in that they are shorts and not a mini skirt. They had a button, for gods' sake.

"You know what your problem is?" she cuts in, disregarding the courtesy of actually answering his previous inquisition.

"I'm too perceptive?

"You think you're funny and you're not."

"Um, correction. I _know_ I'm funny. You just don't appreciate my subtle hints of very tasteful humor. Maybe you should stop renting out your frontal lobe as a loofah sponge."

"Again; not funny."

She's laughing on the inside. She must be.

Well. Let the boy pretend.

Roxas watches Kairi eye up some nondescript guy at the hot dog stand. (Well, _he_ thinks he's nondescript – apparently she thinks otherwise.) He doesn't see any bulking arm muscles, and he's wondering why she's so infatuated with a boy who has done nothing so far as to prove he has three working brain cells.

"He doesn't have any biceps. Why are you gawking at him?"

"Dimples," Kairi supplies, and continues to stare. Roxas half expects her to start fanning herself. Which would really be something. Because she's hardly wearing anything as it is.

"…I have dimples."

Kairi turns to inspect this apparent phenomenon.

"No you don't," she concludes, after staring at her comrade's features. "You don't smile enough to have dimples."

Roxas frowns at this, thus further proving her point.

"Did this militia guy have dimples?"

Kairi thinks back on the man in question. It's a fond recollection, Roxas can tell by looking at her eyes. She's never looked at him that way.

"He had a six pack. I remember that."

"What the hell were you doing staring at his six pack?!"

"…Beach?" she reminds him.

He chastises himself for momentarily being so stupid.

"Well. So? He has a six pack. Big deal. Bet he failed his SATs."

"Roxas," Kairi begins with a characteristic roll of her eyes. "Please. He was so hot even _you'd_ go gay for him."

This comment makes Roxas want to temporarily gorge out his own eyeballs. Not that it would help any as far as the mental imagery was concerned, but his hands were itching to claw at something in response to his confronted masculinity.

"I like boobs," he finishes up with, thinking of nothing else better to say in his defense.

Kairi momentarily looks down to inspect her own. "I think mine are actually getting bigger." This comment comes absent mindedly, because she is the company of her best friend, and she faultily assumes that makes him without a libido.

Roxas tries to avert his eyes, but they're kind of duct taped to Kairi's bosom.

"Kairi. Please."

It comes out as a sort of plea, but not really, because Roxas doesn't beg. Ever.

"What?" she asks innocently enough, completely unaware of the powers her newfound womanhood posses.

It's Roxas' turn to hiss through his teeth, though it sounds more like he's choking on something, possibly his own tongue, as opposed to a dismissal of annoyance.

"…I thought we were here to buy new school clothes."

"Oh, yeah!" The purpose of this venture to the mall had completely escaped Kairi's mind, what with so much scantily clad young meat wandering around.

Not that Kairi really wears all that much to begin with. But there is a dress code as Destiny Island High, and Roxas can't believe he's the one enforcing it.

It beats getting caught being hypnotized by his best friend's budding curves, at any rate.

Damn it. Why can't she cover up?

Kairi begins to squeal at the prospect of entering Forever 21, because 'ohmigosh Roxas they're having a sale!' but Roxas doesn't hear much of it because he's too intoxicated with the way Kairi's hair smells, for she's flipped it no less than five times his presence, and loose strands keep getting caught in his mouth.

The proximity between the two is suffocating, but they've been operating that way for years, so why change it now?

It's not like there's anything there. Right?

Kairi drags Roxas into the store, pumping full of mostly naked young girls and too loud music, and he cringes when he realizes what he's just gotten himself into. The yapping of one hundred adolescent females fill his ears and he's pretty sure, if he does not find some way to subdue the volume, his brain will explode and Kairi will be left to clean up the mess.

"I think I'm going to die in here," he notes. And is ignored. As usual.

"Oooh! Mistress Rinoa just released a new line of fall clothing! Help me pick stuff out."

It's not a suggestion, it's a demand, and Roxas knows better than to argue. Even if he is certain his death is imminent and unavoidable.

"What if I don't want to?" he grumbles, mostly to himself, since Kairi isn't giving him the time of day.

He sulks behind her, aware that this is not helping him on his epic quest for dimples. But he's just not in the mood.

And because he has somehow inadvertently pissed off every deity ever created, Kairi bends over – right in front of him – to pick up the shirt she just had to drop on the floor right as he was walking by.

Roxas momentarily contemplates humping the leg of the headless, faceless mannequin to his left – just to get this inevitable horniness out of his system. Then maybe he'll be able to resume eye contact without choking.

But he somehow doubts the store employees would appreciate that. And, besides, the faceless mannequin didn't really have that impressive of a chest, anyways. Roxas assumes they were all modeled after the same anorexic chick, for he has yet to see one with noteworthy hips.

"I like this one. I'm going to try it on."

"You go do that," Roxas' responds, devoid of emotion. He's eyeing up the Victoria's Secret mannequins now – for they are much more well endowed and only across the hall.

Also, they actually have faces.

Roxas decides to name one Gertrude. Just because he can. Besides, he likes the juxtaposition of dubbing a sexy model with such an unsexy name.

Give him a break. He's bored.

Kairi disappears into the dressing room, and Roxas wants to follow her in, but somehow finds it within him to resist. That a boy. Now all you have to do is resist the urge to jump her when she comes out. Let's see if you can keep the boy scout act up.

She eventually emerges, after much time is dedicated to fussing in the mirror and fixing her hair which always looks the same no matter how much she brushed it, and asks for Roxas' input with her eyes.

It's some flowing, flowery, peasant top ordeal, and it doesn't look the least bit complimentary on her.

Roxas racks his brain to think up something nice to say.

"That shirt makes you look like you're in your third trimester."

He determines, quite proudly, that that was a lot kinder than it could have been.

"Thanks, ass hole," Kairi grumbles, but she takes heed of the less than stellar review even if she was pretty confident in the fabric before hand, and bolts back into the dressing room before someone can steal her stall.

Roxas is convinced he's aged about five years by the time she comes out again.

And during these apparent five years, he has spent some time brooding. He's trying to figure out how to put words to what is currently marching merrily through his skull, and he finds the feat rather difficult to accomplish. Words are not his thing. (He is good at math, however.)

Granted, that skill is rendered pretty much useless given his current predicament. Unless he could somehow manage to win Kairi over by reciting a quadratic equation and solving them in his head.

Some girls would find that hot. But not the same girls shopping at Forever 21.

He'd probably have better luck at Gamestop, that being the case.

Maybe a Verizon Wireless store, if he really got desperate.

But he wasn't desperate. He knew what he wanted. And right now what he wanted was currently on the other side of the dressing room door.

Clothed, of course.

Isn't that right Roxas?

Kairi eventually makes her triumphant return, this time sporting a snug camisole of some type of cotton or another (Roxas assumes every piece of clothing is made from either polyester or cotton – fashion design never being the boy's forte.)

"And?" she prompts.

Roxas stands there, trying to retract his lower mandible which has just finished up on its descent to the floor.

"And why don't you just go out with me, dammit?"

Way to be subtle, kid.

Kairi stands there, eyes wide, whites showing, lips pursed and hands on hips.

There is a pause in which the silence – if you ignore the incessant chatter of the other shoppers and the way too loud music that Roxas drowned out a long time ago – is practically deafening.

"Okay."

"I'm sorry – what?"

"I said okay," she repeats, nodding in conviction.

She then walks over to him, piling a load of various jeans and tank tops into his outstretched arms. (And here he was thinking he'd get a hug.)

"And since you're my boyfriend now," she begins, adding a stray necklace to the pile, "you can buy me these shirts."

She then walks back to the dressing room, and Roxas is left standing there, slack jawed and dumb founded, unsure if he should either laugh or cry.

Perhaps both are called for.

o-o-o-o

Author's Note

o-o-o-o

Written for the lovely olive embers. And totally fluffy and pointless as a result. Hope you enjoyed, m'dear.

(And before anybody kills me, I'm one of those girls who would rather shop at Gamestop than Forever 21, so no, I was not dissing the nerds who like their boys to be able to solve quadratics in their head. Lord knows it's a turn on for me. XD)

Thanks for reading!


	2. Victoria's Secret

_Victoria's Secret_

o-o-o-o

And now that they're dating, Kairi needs lingerie, does she not?

o-o-o-o

"Just to let you know, I'm done buying things for you."

And he says this every time, and every time he is proven wrong.

Not that Roxas is intentionally lying, but Kairi always has a way of getting what she wants. Especially when it comes to clothes. Which is ironic, because you would think she'd be more into skin care, given how much of her nude tones show.

"Yes, of course dear," Kairi dismisses, clutching his hand and – literally – dragging him through the mall for a second weekend in a row. Destiny High has officially started with it's first marking period of classes, assignments, and locker room gossip, and Kairi was not shy in announcing her newfound status as 'totally taken' by none other than the poor soul who was currently stumbling behind her, tripping over his monstrous skater shoes.

"Dude. Don't call me dear. You make it sound like we're fifty."

"…You don't see us lasting until we're fifty?"

A precocious glance is thrown over the girl's boney shoulder, which was typically exposed, and Roxas can do nothing but rub his forehead in response.

"Yeah yeah, I see us lasting 'till we're fifty or whatever. But by then I'll need Viagra and I don't think medical insurance covers that."

"Roxas, I'll be so hot when I'm fifty you won't _need_ Viagra."

The boy pauses, figuring out he should tred lightly in reply to that statement.

Wrinkly skin and age spots don't quite do it for him, and knowing Kairi and her ever lasting infatuation with tanning and the sun, it'll be a blessing if she has not developed skin cancer by then.

"Uh. Sure. Whatever you say."

Wrong answer.

"Roxas, you're supposed to flatter me or back me up or something when I say stuff like that."

"That _was_ me flattering you."

After all, he had negated to point out the sagging breasts and crows feet she would eventually be plagued with.

"You make for a rotten boyfriend."

"Who is currently holding all eighteen of your shopping bags with one hand. Thank me later."

He didn't bother to point out he paid for at least half of them. Kairi and losing money was a package deal, one he knew about far before he had persuaded her into being his partner.

Eventually the duo stumbled – quite factually – into the black and pink threshold sporting numerous models in various states of undress in the front windows. Above them was the italic script: Victoria's Secret, written in some kind of girly calligraphy no man could ever have a hope of deciphering. Roxas prints all his letters. And this is why.

Cursive is for girls and sexually confused men.

And Demyx – on some occasions.

"Here?" he questions, almost hopefully.

Kairi nods her answer.

"I need some panties."

Well. Roxas wasn't going to argue with this one.

While originally Roxas would worry about being seen in such a store – either as a confrontation to his masculinity or as some desperate mannequin pervert – he seemed to not mind when he had a living model standing in front of him in which he could picture all the lingerie on.

Mental imagery was one of his strong points. Too bad the occupation didn't offer monetary compensation. That would be nice.

Then again – he'd probably do it for free.

Kind of like now.

Kairi unexpectedly drops Roxas' hand and hurries over to a display rack holding excessively decorated corsets – items of which Roxas couldn't figure how to get her out of. He should probably discourage her from purchasing such items.

His girlfriend quickly paws through all fifty some lacey items, sniffing out the good ones, discarding the bad ones, and staring awkwardly at the ones in which more was displayed than covered.

Roxas meanders over to her side – figuring he should have some say in the matter – and he immediately feels his eyes bulge to the width of economy sized marshmallows in response to the price tags.

"You're lucky I'm looking at the clearance rack," Kairi offers.

If his eyes could get any bigger, they would, but then again, they may fall out.

Shopping with Kairi should come with hazard pay.

(Of which she'd just persuade him into spending that, too, on her anyhow, so it was futile endeavor, really. But Roxas thought it was clever all the same.)

"I'm not gonna pay for it if I can't see it."

Kairi looks up from some pink sheer see through thing.

Her boyfriend is smirking in the wake of his declaration – apparently very pleased with himself. He had just figured out a way to save some money – either that or see his girlfriend in even less clothing than she usually sports. Both outcomes were good.

"You should have refused to pay for anything you couldn't touch," she responds blithely. "Then you wouldn't have had to pay for anything."

Silence.

"I think I liked it better when we were just friends."

"Too late," she chirps, hanging said transparent corset back on the clearance rack.

She then disappears into the vast racks of pink colored items, leaving Roxas stranded in the middle of a sea of underwear and thongs. Poor boy.

"I'm lost," he calls out, unmoving. "Kairi, come back. Everything looks the same."

She ignores him. Panties take precedence.

Kairi is huffing and puffing as she rips through manila drawer after manila drawer of undergarments and satin bras, trying to find something in her size (which should be triple A, but she refuses to admit her underdeveloped albatross and insists on buying B cups instead. It requires much strap adjusting, but she gets by.)

Kairi returns to rescue her boyfriend, only to find him completely enraptured by some nondescript mannequin laying precariously on her stomach with stiletto donning feet waving high in the air.

"Her name is Gertrude," Roxas explains, pointing.

Kairi doesn't ask because Kairi doesn't want to know.

"Um. I need your opinion on some things."

Roxas tears his eyes away from Gertrude, though he seems to have some trouble doing so. This makes Kairi seethe with envy, for she is currently losing out to a porcelain woman with no vagina, and this upsets her greatly.

"Roxas. I'll try it on."

Smart girl.

Roxas' head whips around fast enough to break the sonic barrier.

"Really?"

"No. I just said that to get your attention. Now follow me."

Roxas grumbles something in a foreign language and lets himself be dragged to the back of the store against his will.

"Do you see anything in size B?"

Roxas shook his head, preoccupied fingering some black lace bra that was inconveniently size DD.

"These look like candy dishes," he offers.

Kairi glares.

"Size B," she repeats. "Not Size-I-Need-To-Crawl-On-All-Fours."

"Gertrude could pull it off."

More glaring. No words, though. Kairi can't think of any.

Finally – eureka! – Kairi spots a sparingly beaded get up with just the right cup and waist size, with a matching thong and corset to go along with.

Unfortunately, said item is beaded in quite inconvenient places, such as the crotch and cleavage, and Kairi sincerely doubts this would be comfortable to wear.

Roxas spies her gandering and walks over.

"So what's wrong with that one? It's got my approval."

"It has beads in all the wrong places…" Kairi muses, awe stricken by the lack of common sense that was used when creating this item.

"Um. Kairi? It doesn't have to be comfortable. It doesn't even have to look good on you; just strewn across the floor. These clothes were not designed to be worn for extended amounts of time." Pause. "Besides, I kinda like the beads."

"That's because you won't be the one wearing them."

"No – just taking them off."

He smirks again and is answered with a kick in the shins – which kinda hurts given Kairi's current platforms.

"Honestly? I can't even figure out how to untie half these things," he continues to prattle, much more talkative then he ever was in Forever 21. Then again, Forever 21 did not sell corsets and thongs and beaded crotches.

"Bondage?" Kairi suggests, taking the scanty piece of lingerie off the rack. She meant it as a joke, but men are rather gullible when it comes to women's underwear.

"Can we?" he asks genuinely.

"Gods Roxas, just tell me if I should get this or not."

Kairi is growing snippy. She feels inadequate. She feels inadequate to the models plastered on the wall and the mannequins in the front window. She feels inadequate to the black clad employees and her boyfriend's unspoken expectations. And she especially feels inadequate to Gertrude, for reasons she can't even comprehend.

Roxas senses the shift in tone, for he is not a stupid boy, just easily distracted, and scratches the back of his neck awkwardly with the hand that is not sporting eight shopping bags from ten different stores.

"Kairi," he says, a couple decibels softer than all of his previous comments. "The reason the B cups are all gone is because _everyone_ is a B cup. They sold out. That means all this triple letter crap is the leftovers – not the norm."

Kairi pouts. "But I'm not a B cup. I'm triple A."

And you know you've got a good connection with your significant other when the two of you can openly discuss cup sizes in a lingerie store. Without blushing. Or fumbling.

And Roxas actually looks quite sincere when he tugs on Kairi's hand, beckoning her to look at him.

"Kairi, I don't care."

Silence once again bestows itself unto the couple, and they stand there for a couple moments before resuming conversation.

"But Gertrude – "

"Dude. Gertrude's lips are too big," Roxas' admonishes, passing judgment on the mannequin almost as if she were real. "She looks like she got stung by a bee or something. They should have put an epi pen in her left hand or something, not a whip or whatever the hell they've got her holding."

"…She was holding a whip?"

Roxas' brow furrows in thought.

"Actually, I don't remember. I can go check, if you'd like."

"No!" Kairi squeals, latching onto his arm. "No, that's quite alright. Stay with me. Please."

She's burrowed into his shoulder, for now he's got a full head on her, even though last year they were about the same height and Axel accused him of taking steroids on the first day of school given his summer growth spurt.

Roxas was once again victim to his girlfriend's exotically fragrant hair.

And it was once again in his mouth. How did her hair always end up in his mouth? He tried to spit a couple strands out, and ending up spraying saliva on top of Kairi's head.

Romantic. No doubt.

"I don't think we need to buy anything in this store," Roxas finally says gently, resuming their previous hand holding position. "I like your old panties just fine."

Kairi goes rigid.

"When the hell did you see my old panties?!"

"…I haven't. I'm just assuming. Feel free to prove me wrong, though. There's a dressing room back there with this really nice curtain that – "

"Thank you Roxas, but I think we can leave now."

Roxas grins, and finally giving up on avoiding Kairi's pervasive hair, nestles his nose in her crown and affectionately kisses her on top of the head.

"C'mon, babe, let's go somewhere else."

"Babe?" Kairi repeats. "Oh Roxas, please. Even you can do better than that."

But she doesn't resign the purchase she has on his hand, so he knows he's done something right.

The two exit the vicinity arm in arm. It was the first store Kairi walks out of not buying anything. And Roxas is fifty dollars richer. Which just means he has fifty dollars he is going to end up spending somewhere else.

And when he isn't looking, Kairi sticks her tongue out at Gertrude. Just because.

o-o-o-o

Author's Note

o-o-o-o

Serena is to be blamed for this addition. Yell at her, not me. XD

So apparently one chapter of insanity wasn't enough. A wild herd of plot bunnies attacked me at our local mall, and instead of spending the hour shopping, I resigned myself to the food court and sat on a bench and scribbled out ten chapters worth of notes.

Yeah. Ten chapters. Out of nowhere. So I guess this is officially no longer a 'one shot.'

Whoops.


	3. Starbucks

_Starbucks_

o-o-o-o

"I require chemical enhancement of epic proportions."

o-o-o-o

Two words: Christmas Shopping.

Already Roxas is pissing in his pants.

Well, he would, if the urine wouldn't freeze into a damn stalagmite by the time it hit the ground.

There's the snow and the santas and the live music emanating from somewhere near the front door. Kairi seems infatuated by it all – though Roxas can not understand why. It's the same blasted place he always ended up losing his money, only now it was decorated. Big whoop. What he wanted was a bed, some heavy duty blankets, and an endless supply of Code Red and pop corn. (And maybe perhaps Kairi, if she'd shut up long enough to let him watch the football game. Don't get the kid wrong, of course he's head over heels for her, almost literally, given the black ice, but there are some things women need to learn not to mess with. ESPN is one of them.)

The parking lot – the whole wide world, actually – seems doused in White Out, snow covering everything, and still pouring from the sky.

"Angel dandruff," Roxas had offered on the ride over.

Two months ago, Kairi would have tried in vain to hide her amusement. But by now, she had no qualms with letting her juvenile sense of humor show, and Roxas finds that he likes it better that way.

"Aren't you excited?" she all but squeals, clutching his ungloved hand. He had originally been wearing two gloves, compliments of the wind chill, but Kairi wordlessly removed one and stuck it in his pocket so she could clutch onto his hand. He didn't complain.

"I'm thankful to be alive," he replies honestly.

Taking his girlfriend shopping was becoming more and more hazardous to his health. He nearly crashed five times on the way to the mall, and he could only anticipate how many more times on the way back. (He could also dimly anticipate all the shopping bags he'd be privileged enough to carry, and actually contemplated lifting some weights in the basement in preparation for their little weekend jaunt – which was slowly becoming more of a habit than a special occasion. Kairi could keep the shopping district eternally funded all on her own. Some days all she did was contribute to the gross national product. She'd probably be awarded a medal in Washington DC for single handedly solving the world's economic crisis all one her lonesome. And maybe she'd mention him, just because. He did almost die for her doing this, after all. Surely some recognition? A little?

"I require chemical enhancement of epic proportions," Roxas informs his companion, who was rosy cheeked and red nosed from the arctic like air. She looked pretty damn cute.

"What…drugs?" she asks. "Roxas. I don't date drug lords."

"I was referring to Starbucks, dummy."

They now had encroached onto the main sidewalk, where Kairi applies both dainty hands to Roxas' ungloved arm so as not to go flying away with the wind chill.

"I thought you didn't like that place."

"I don't. They think they can charge you an arm and a leg for over priced novelty drinks that are more foam than beverage and more beverage than taste."

"…And you want to go there why?"

"Because I know you, and I'll die of exhaustion if I don't caffeinate myself before you start handing me your shopping bags."

"Mom offered to help us."

Ah. Yes. Music to a boyfriend's ears. Let's bring the Mom along. That would totally add to the charm of the backseat. Though it was so frickin' cold out, Roxas may opt out of the backseat this time around anyway. They had all summer to neck. If they tried it in this weather, they may very well stick together. And how awkward that would be.

"I don't do charity," Roxas replies. "I can handle this on my own."

"Except for the coffee aspect."

"That's not charity, darling, that's necessity. Either you let me get my god forsaken cappuccino or you can hitch hike your way home."

Kairi laughs again – and Roxas feels himself swelling with pride, for that's the best reciprocation of all. All of the sudden, he doesn't feel so cold anymore.

When they enter the building, they are greeted with a rush of warm air that nearly knocks Kairi over, seeing as though she really is just a skin bag of organs and bones anyway, and Roxas actually had to steady her at one point because the heating system was so strong.

"Glad you didn't give me your shopping bags now?" he teases.

But all she could say was, "Oh poopie! The door messed up my hair!"

Underappreciated. As usual. Right.

Moving on.

"Ya know, Sora calls this place FiveBucks," Roxas feels compelled to share as they increase in their proximity to the coffee house. The smell of cocoa is already wafting down the hall. It's calling to him, he swears it.

"Why? Because it costs so much?"

"Well…it costs less than taking _you_ out anywhere."

Kairi rolls her saucer eyes and begins to strip off her jacket – which is insane, for Roxas thinks even his romantic induced sweat is trying to form icicles.

His eyes bulge as he is introduced to Kairi's current ensemble.

"It's, like, two degrees out," he reminds her, just incase she somehow magically forgot.

"I know. I do own a thermometer, after all."

"Kairi…" Roxas begins, doing that hiss thing he's ever so notorious for. "You're wearing sleeveless."

"I _had_ a jacket on," she points out.

"And next you'll have pneumonia. Can you put that back on, please?"

"Why?"

"Because I don't want you dead, that's why." Pause. "Also, I don't want to catch anything. You'll probably be contagious."

"Nu-uh, I'm fine," she insists, letting go of his arm long enough to twirl. "It's sweater material, see? Got it from Forever 21."

Ah. Memories.

"You went to Forever 21 without me? Who carried you shopping bags? Heck, who paid for everything?"

"I took Namine out for her birthday." There was a pause. "I kinda kept wishing she was you, though."

Roxas unintentionally starts to beam again.

"Dimples!" Kairi squeaks, pointing emphatically. "Lookie lookie! Oh Roxas, you finally have dimples!"

"What?" he recovers, suddenly ashamed. "No I don't."

Secretly he is thanking ever deity in the heavens for finally bestowing upon him this epic thing that goes by the name of 'dimples.' Now, if only they could grant him some arm muscles, his life would be set.

To change the subject, he mentions the prospect of coffee again.

Shortly thereafter, he returns to his the previous line of inquiry.

"So. Sleeveless sweaters," he begins, this time doing the leading as he drags Kairi to the Starbucks across the hall. "What _will_ they come up with next?"

"I don't see what the big deal is," Kairi pouts, trying to ignore her goose pimpled arms. The great lengths girls go through in the name of vanity and aesthetics is something that has kept many a man up at night.

Roxas eyes her chest playfully. "There is no big deal."

A slap is issued, but it's as mitigated as hell, and even if it wasn't, Roxas sincerely doubts it would actually _hurt_.

Though if she got a good scratch in with those manicured nails…

"Ya know, maybe I just like to jingle my bells."

At this, Roxas stops walking so abruptly Kairi collides into his backside.

"I don't even have words for that right now."

"You'll find some, I'm sure of it."

He is then given an inspiring pat on the back. "Coffee? Yes?"

"Hold on, wait a minute. We need a moment of silence. My childhood dreams are dying right before my eyes."

"Oh please," Kairi buffs, giving a tug on her boyfriend's jacket. "I killed that a long time ago in the back seat of your mother's Chevy."

Now Roxas is stumbling.

The words. The words never stop coming. And you can never tell what they'll be, either. That's just the way it worked with her. Kairi was like a personified human grab bag. And not in the perverted sense, either. (Though, admittedly, Roxas did let his mind wander there. But only for a second. Or two. Maybe five, tops.) She'd just burst forth with these wild declarations that continuously caught him off guard.

And he loved every second of it.

Predictable girlfriends are boring. You have much more fun with the psychos.

"At least I'm not as bad as Tifa," Kairi points out as they take their place in the line at Starbucks. It is so packed that the cue is trickling out of the store. Apparently Roxas isn't the only one who needed chemical enhancement for the evening. He was thinking about making it a double shot at this rate. But that would cost another appendage, and Sora claimed they owned both his arms and legs as it already were.

And. Well. There _is_ another appendage. But we won't go there.

(Kairi might, though.)

"Tifa?" Roxas repeats. "Oh, Flat Rack Tifa?"

"Is that your attempt at irony?"

"…If I say yes?"

"I'm breaking up with you."

"…And if I say no?"

"…I still may break up with you."

"So…what am I supposed to say?"

Kairi doesn't have an answer for that one, and neither does he. So it's all good.

"See, Tifa doesn't _have_ Jingle Bells," Roxas presses on, when it was much better to have stopped while ahead. Or while he still _had_ a head. "She's more…Bells of Notre Dame, ya know? Big. Epic. Loud."

"…Did you just refer to her chest as epic?"

Roxas contemplates the words that just flew out of his mouth against his consent (and he hasn't even drank anything yet.)

"Um. I dunno. Maybe?"

But instead of slapping him and threatening break up number 176, which is what most girls would be inclined to do, especially after four months of dating, she kind of just smirks and decides to go along with it. There are many bonuses to dating your best friend. This is one of them.

"So, Roxas, tell me, is my chest epic?"

And again with the grab bag.

"Where do you come up with this stuff?"

Kairi merely shrugs.

"No. Really, Kairi. I need to know."

"And_ I_ really need to know what word you use to describe my chest to all your gloating buddies."

"I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but it's not epic."

"I kind of already knew that."

"Besides, Riku says anything bigger than a handful is a waste."

The duo was beginning to get strange looks from the other shoppers in line. Especially the mothers with their baby totting children. (And what business does a five year old have in Starbucks, anyhow? We're caffeinating the entire nation, cashing in on the youth of America…or so says Sora when he's had too much of the exact drink he was in the process of complaining about.)

"Um…you've got to let me think about this," Roxas stalls, trying to rake his brain for something witty, yet complimentary, to say.

"Thinking is not your forte, darling. I figured that one out during month one."

Roxas shoots her a gossamer glare, and all she does in response is giggle.

"They…look bigger today." He clears his throat. "Are they, um, growing?"

Oh. Merciful Gods. Awkward.

"Well, I would hope they look bigger today," his girlfriend begins, inspecting herself again. "I got this new water bra thing going on here and – "

"Please don't discuss undergarments in my presence if I don't actually get to see them."

"Oh please. Just go salivate over Gertrude. She's right down the hall."

"…I apologized for that one already!"

"A model, Roxas? You were lusting over a model!"

By now the line had dispersed, though whether it was because of the insane wait to get in or by the line of conversation the couple was carrying on is still uncertain. Roxas thinks he knows which one is the correct answer, but he's enjoying himself too much, so he lets it slide.

"You dragged me in there," he grumbles, inching closer to the counter that housed all of his hopes and dreams in a six inch Styrofoam cup. Right now he wanted it more than anything. Well, almost anything.

Except maybe some evidence of this new water bra thing his girlfriend allegedly had 'going on.'

Then, with a wry smirk adoring his newly dimpled features, he leans in close to Kairi's chest, claiming he can hear her heart beating and maybe she should sit down and check her pulse, when in reality he wasn't the least bit concerned about her blood pressure.

"Roxas, if you think for one minute I am stupid enough to sit down with you lurking over me like some pervert gawking at my cleavage so you can tell all your friends I finally bought a water bra – "

"Don't need to," he interrupts suddenly.

Kairi's eyes ask the question for her.

"I heard the ocean."

"Oh Roxas!" she tries to smack him upside the head, but he skillfully dodges, for he has only been on the receiving end one too many times these past four months, and Kairi wasn't very stealthy as far as her violence was concerned. Now, if he had been dating, say, Yuffie, he'd be flat on his back becoming acquainted with the newly painted ceiling. But Kairi's strength did not lie in her little girlie slaps, of this he was certain.

Still wasn't certain about that water bra, though.

"Think if Starbucks donated half its proceedings to Africa we could save all the starving children in Ethiopia?"

"With what? Coffee? Roxas, ya know, I wasn't kidding about that drug lord thing…"

Roxas scoffs at the mental image.

"Kairi, you're attached to my hip. When could I possibly sell drugs without you noticing?"

"…Good point."

The line lingers on, and Roxas watches with half interest as the baristas fall all over themselves trying to get to the steamed milk without passing out third degree burns as party favors.

"Sora says this place ate his college tuition."

"Does he now?" Kairi prompts, doing that sexy eyebrow thing she falls victim to every time she is unconvinced. Roxas has been half tempted to make up wild stories just to get her to do that eyebrow thing for him, but he daren't tell her this, lest she stop doing it all together. Or worse: refuse to do it ever again unless he bought her whatever it was she currently wanted to buy.

And he'd give in. Of course.

"So what are you getting Sora for Christmas?" Kairi petitions, leaning in closer than necessary, even though she was beating on her boyfriend a mere moment before.

"I was thinking about auctioning you off for charity," he smirks. "Totally for the starving Ethiopians, of course."

"Of course," Kairi repeats. Next came the raised eye brow, and Roxas is floating.

Water bras and coffee. Life is good.

(Though he was more than slightly concerned with the whole pneumonia thing. He really didn't want to see his girlfriend sick. Wasn't top on his Christmas list, at any rate.)

(Though maybe he would finally get the chance to stash away some money…)

Eventually, after what seemed like eons and eons of waiting, and correspondingly aging, their turn at the counter comes up. Roxas feels as though he could have graduated Harvard Law by the time they take his order.

"Give me the strongest thing you've got," he requests with a feigned smile. "If it's legal, I'll buy it. I want triple shots of espresso. Mucho mucho grande tall or whatever the hell it is you guys call your sizes. And then I want another one. And another one after that."

Roxas doesn't quite care if he is making a fool out of himself by ordering like a three brain celled moron. Kairi is bent over at her reedy waist, choking on air as she watches her boyfriend scare every person in the vicinity.

"Oh, and almost forgot: can I take that liquid sugar off your hands?"

"Um…sir," the employee stutters. "The liquid sugar is for the drinks only."

"Now, see, that's where you're wrong. Liquid sugar _is_ a drink, you see. A drink I want to buy, actually, and the customer is always right. So lemme have it. I've got credit."

"Um…I think I may have to check with the manager –"

"What? Why bring the manager into this? It's just me, you, and my liquid sugar. And – oh, lookie, what do I have here?" Roxas procures a fifty from his jacket pocket. "Does the manager really need to know? I mean, Ulysses S. Grant doesn't think so. And I don't think so, either. So why don't you hand that baby over and Mr. Grant is all yours?"

The employee swallows. Hard.

"But everyone can see me…!"

Ah. So he _is_ considering it. Excellent.

Roxas quietly takes out a single and folds it over the fifty he was waving in the man's face. "It's a tip," he explains, nonchalant with every word. (Kairi, on the other hand, doesn't look like she's capable of any. She's still wheezing her way into an epileptic fit.)

"And. Um. For the misses?" the barista questions, trying to discreetly shove the fifty covered single into his pocket.

"Kai?" Roxas calls, secretly pleased he was able to elicit such a response. He felt fifteen feet tall. "Want anything sweetie?"

"…Java…Chip…" she manages to choke out, then continues to retch on air.

"Yeah, and one of those."

"…Size?"

"I don't speak Starbuck-ese, so I'm just gonna have to say: the big one. Ya know, most places just refer to it as _large_. Why can't you guys do that? I know you use organic coffee beans and all that crap, but really, there's no such thing as organic sizes. Anyway – don't fill it half way up with foam. If I wanted that I could have bought a bottle of whipped cream." Pause. "Okay. We good?"

The employee wordlessly nods.

"Awesome."

"That will be five fifty."

Roxas lets this sink in for a moment. He has to calmly remind himself it wasn't April Fool's, but rather Christmas, and the barista didn't appear to be joking.

"Dude, man, you just spent fifty on your sugar," the nameless man reminds him.

"I'm aware of that, thank you very much. But it was friggin' _liquid sugar_, not chocolate chip coffee!"

Kairi still hasn't recovered.

Roxas looks over his shoulder and sighs. "Yeah, I guess she's worth it."

The barista looks somewhere between the realm of amused and disgusted, and silently goes to make Kairi's multi million dollar drink, incidentally leaving the bottle of liquid sugar on the counter. Roxas swipes it into his jacket and takes his place at the end of the receiving line, a red faced Kairi in tow.

"You still with me?"

She nods mutely. After five minutes, and much time dedicated to wiping her eyes off on the back of her hands ('bet you wished you had worn sleeves now, don'tchya?') she is able to stand upright and once again has returned to the world of coherency.

She does not stay there long, though.

"I swear, you need to take a second mortgage on the house just to stay hydrated nowadays."

"Roxas, dear, nobody forced you to buy the liquid sugar."

He wants to say, 'well, yeah, kinda, I did it for the lolz.'

But he did it for _her_ lolz, which makes everything justified, right?

"Ya want some?" he offers.

"Maybe we should wait until we get out of the store."

"Ah. Yeah. Right."

After another ten years were dedicated to waiting for Kairi's Java Chip, the two exit hand in hand. They remain like this for approximately five seconds, and that is all Roxas can handle before he is forced to dig into his liquid sugar.

"Organic coffee beans my ass," Roxas hisses, taking a sip of Kairi's drink without asking. They've been sharing water bottles and lolly pops since they were five. Sometimes it felt as though nothing had changed. (Well, except for when they were in the backseat…)

"Not organic," she corrects haughtily. "Orgasmic."

"…That would be the most effective advertisement campaign ever," Roxas concludes. "We should definitely run with that. See where it takes us."

There's a pause as the two return to their respective drinks. But it isn't the awkward pause that seems to always plague new couples on their first dates. It was more an omission of sound as opposed to an uncomfortable silence. And they both kind of like it.

"So where to next, Highness?" Roxas mocks, arm wrapped around her boney (sleeveless) shoulders.

There's a sigh, and Kairi blows her bangs out of her face in preparation for what she is about to say next.

"I don't feel like shopping anywhere, actually."

At this, Roxas almost drops his fifty dollar sugar bottle. He'd have a fun time explaining that one to the maintenance crew.

Kairi blows off his reaction with a listless shrug. "I kinda just want to spend time with you."

_Now_ there's an awkward silence.

"So. Backseat then?"

Kairi nearly coughs up her straw. "Backseat?"

"I am still doubting the existence of this water bra."

Kairi smirks and does the eyebrow thing, and Roxas is sold. Though, admittedly, he was pretty much sold four months ago in that historic run to Forever 21 for new school clothes.

"You had better turn the heater on," she warns, kind of kidding, kind of not.

Okay. Okay. Definitely not.

"You won't need the heater with me in the backseat, babe."

Kairi sighs, rolls her eyes, and mutters something about not being a 'babe.'

But no matter. She latches onto his arm and once again resumes her position as leader as she wordlessly drags him out of the mall and back into the frozen parking lot.

o-o-o-o

Roxas was right. They didn't need the heater.

o-o-o-o

Author's Notes

o-o-o-o

Olive, you are beginning to make the authoress question her sanity. Is that good or bad?

And a large assortment of sea salt ice cream goes out to the ever faithful Serena, whose encouraging emails of humor and wit never cease. And for that I am eternally grateful.

Oh, Olive, if you only knew where this story is heading…

(A big shout out to all the readers and reviewers! At this rate, I feel like I owe you guys my first born…)


	4. Sharper Image

_Sharper Image_

o-o-o-o

"You do know those are not really personal massagers, right?"

o-o-o-o

So. Before High School, before the hormones, and before the dating, Kairi and Roxas were just that: friends. Best friends, to be exact, but they kept such things clandestine for fear it would ruin their reputations (never mind the latter was nigh obvious, what with all the straw and lolly pop sharing going on.)

And so it was during this time Kairi decided to hold a party for her thirteenth birthday. No longer was she entering the last year of High School, but rather, the last year of Middle School, where the dawning of womanhood is on the cusp of the horizon and the maturity of men still has a long way to go.

Of course, knowing the girl's shopping tendencies, she refused to hold her birthday bash at anywhere else except the local mall, claiming she needed to be properly 'outfitted' for whatever euphoric ventures awaited her in the halls of secondary school.

(And by euphoric, she wasn't referring to the backseat with Roxas. At the time.)

She invited Namine and Olette to join her on her cash spending escapade, amid a three way call full of giggles and the repetitive articulation of the word 'like.' Apparently, at one point, it was considered the cool thing to say. It's a habit that still rears its head from time to time, but Roxas opts not to comment on it, for he has no desire to ever bring up Kairi's Thirteenth Birthday Party Bash again. Once was traumatic enough, thank you very much. If selective amnesia were possible, he would have sold his internal organs on the black market to obtain such a thing. But alas, he was forced to endure what every male thirteen year old's nightmare must be – shopping with a gaggle of preadolescent girls, all intent on gossiping and giggling until he felt the need to yank out their vocal chords. It never happened, but still. It was a fantasy that remained with him through out the day. He attributes such mental distractions for his severe lack of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (and possibly a slight crush on Kairi that was still in denial.) What? She had good lolly pops.

And yes, even Roxas was naïve enough at one point not to pick up on his own innuendo.

Gone are those days.

So when Kairi announced her birthday to him, over pre-algebra in study hall, he grimaced and whined and bulked and tried to think of some good excuse as to why he couldn't make it.

'I'm having my tonsils removed.'

'My grandmother just died.'

'I'm running for President.'

But all lines fell short when Kairi's eyes began to rim with saline, and, hell, he wasn't heartless, ya know.

(Not in this adaption, anyway.)

She pouted. He bitched. She won.

And, so, alas, he found himself trailing behind three eighth grade girls, all auctioning off their southern real estate by sporting thongs they had purchased specifically for this event. He didn't know where they came from – well, ostensibly an underwear store (for he was not yet privy to the concept of Victoria's Secret, poor boy) – just that Olette kept reaching behind herself and very discreetly trying to relieve her hindquarters from what appeared to be a permanent wedgie.

She received a slap on the arm every time she attempted such, for aforementioned red heads did not appreciate traveling with a herd of girls who did not know when to leave well enough alone.

Axel would kill for this view, of this Roxas was certain, but he had no interest in watching Olette grow accustomed to her panties. And as his luck would have it, Kairi already seemed experienced in the matter, and her hands remained solely on her purse, and nothing more.

And so onward came the laundry list of girlie stores Roxas would rather maul his own head off than go in ever again. Bath And Body Works was the worst. Each girl doused themselves in was appeared to be gallons of perfume and hand cream and what have you, and the blonde swore the place was more akin to a gas chamber than a perfume boutique.

He lingered in the threshold and he _still_ felt like he was inhaling knock out gas.

Why do girls think males such as himself find these things attractive?

(Ha; speak for yourself, kiddo. Five years later you'll be listening for evidence of a water bra. Thankfully no one exposed you to that on this trip, though. You may have required therapy. The local psychologist would have made a mint off of you.)

He waited patiently, always lingering ten steps behind so no one mistook him as being acquainted with the babbling trio, and continued to watch with a voyeuristic fascination as these three pree-teens introduced him to the world of womanhood. They had a long way to go, but they were making progress. Olette ditched the braids and Kairi was donning make up. Namine still looked the same, but she was one of the few who could pull such cosmetic nonchalance off. Even Axel couldn't go without his 'guy-liner' nowadays.

After invading every make up store on all three equally torturous levels, Roxas finally made himself known by announcing he would like to frequent Sharper Image, for he always had a knack with gadgets and could put the foot massage display to good use. Gods only know how females conquer the mall in heels.

Kairi gave in, since she was aware this wasn't exactly how he wanted to be spending his weekend, and decided with utmost authority (for she deemed herself the leader of the group and all others simply fell in line with her natural aplomb) that they were now going to take a quick excursion to Sharper Image, for her sake, since she had decided to be benevolent for once and cover Roxas' ass.

"Why Sharper Image?" Namine asked, genuinely confused, an emotion she didn't hide well.

"Can't we go to Waldenbooks?" Olette whined, once again trying to adjust the shoe string that was riding up her butt crack. "I like books. They teach you things."

"I'm sure there's plenty to be learned at Sharper Image."

Kairi made herself sound certain even though she wasn't. But oh well. She had mastered her persuasion tactics in the first grade, and they only grew from there.

(Unlike other things, Roxas had so kindly pointed out one night in the backseat, many years later, and was thus referring to her boobs. Perhaps this is why she chose to indulge in a water bra two weeks later.)

So the trio – quadruple, if you count the lingering, scowling blonde who only wanted to rest his weary legs from what seemed like a twenty mile hike up hill ("Roxas, we can't take the escalators, you burn more calories on the stairs!") he immediately made a bee line for the highly anticipated massage chair, complete with calf compressors and rolling foot pressure, and tried to ignore the blank faces of his classmates as they all stood in the middle of the store, unsure of what to do with themselves.

There was no makeup or clothes. Why else go into a store?

And that's when he heard her. The teenager every Middle Schooler had come to call the Sadistic Senior, who apparently held a job here at Sharper Image, and they had been none the wiser.

"Starbucks? I would die without Starbucks. I drink so much, I swear to all that is holy, I could defeat enemy terrorists with the sheer power of my piss."

Namine's eyes bulged in response to this declaration, and even Roxas was piqued enough to turn around in his five thousand dollar display chair and catch a glimpse of the much talked about Larxene.

It didn't surprise him she was working here. She was naturally endowed with skills pertaining to anything electric. Gizmos were her forte, as were computers, but Apple didn't seem to want to hire somebody who announced their urinary habits in front of thirteen year old customers. Apparently Sharper Image didn't mind.

"You talk like a guy," a nondescript man said, supposedly the manager, if his name tag was any indicator. "Larxene, are you sure you're not gay?"

"No, but I know so many cool women, sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I _did_ have a dick."

Kairi's lip glossed mouth hit the floor.

Roxas bit the inside of his cheek to keep from voluminous peals of laughter.

This _so_ beat Bath And Body Works.

He should ask at what age they started hiring. This massage chair was 'the bomb' (as children were inclined to say in the early nineties) and the potential co-workers promised nothing short of Grade-A hilarity.

Though, admittedly, Kairi didn't seem to be too impressed. Which bothered Roxas more than he thought it would. And…was she eyeing him with envy or something? It's not like he was professing unyielding ardor for the slick store worker behind him. No. Only smiling. And Kairi always considered that _her_ job. (Of course, she didn't tell him this for many years later. For a girl who talked so much, she sure knew how to keep the important stuff to herself. Oh well, that was pretty much cured in Starbucks. Or Forever 21. Take your pick. I'm sure she doesn't mind.)

Larxene continued with her monologue, going into great detail about her explicit date last night, something Olette and Namine could do without hearing, but were too awe struck to do anything about it, and something Roxas practically wanted to take notes on.

Kairi, on the other hand, had just about had it with this line of dialogue and busied herself examining the noise canceling headphones on the adjacent wall.

(In retrospect, Roxas figures he should have invested in some with her. It would have been quite useful when dealing with Sora some two years later when the brunette transferred. But as for now, he was unaware of such things, and opted instead to sit in his massage chair and take the scene in. He wished he had a camera so he could capture the girls' facial reactions on film. Come to think of it, they sold those here, but he was about 399.99 dollars too short. So he would have to rely on his impeccable memory to serve him well in the years to come.)

Larxene spotted the mouth gaping trio – now duo, for Kairi pretty much looked like she was shopping alone – and decided it would be in her best interest to approach them. She sauntered instead of walked, and Roxas momentarily wondered how she pulled such off in required work wear sneakers. Must be a chick thing.

"Can I help you find anything?"

She smirked when she said this, like offering help in and of itself was comical enough to warrant reciprocation.

"Um," Olette replied deftly. "No, not really. We're, just, like, looking around?"

Namine nodded mutely.

When Larxene continued to stare at them, the chocolate haired, thong wearing, book worm decided to absent mindedly fiddle with a personal massager to her left, right next to the display rack situated near Roxas' chair.

It was an odd looking contraption, swearing on the box to be nothing more than a personal vibrator (albeit water proof) to help relieve stressed muscles and aching cramps. Of course, it didn't do itself any favors by having a heated tip and going by the patented name of "The Magic Wand," but the two remaining girls were too sheltered to pick up on such things. (Kairi probably would have, in that way she is ever so notorious for – pretending like she knows everything even when she doesn't – and could have saved her comrades from their unavoidable embarrassment. But she was busy trying _on_ the noise canceling headphones now, therefore rendering her knowledge useless.)

"You are aware at what you're looking at, right?" Larxene drawled, the smirk reaching her eyes now as she watched Olette fumble with said Magic Wand.

"Yeah," she answered. "A, um, personal vibrator, right?"

Larxene sighed, rushing a gloved hand over her slicked back hair, compliments of the copious amounts of gel she applied each and every morning in the girls' locker room. She was notorious for the scent, and also the fact it was practically immovable.

"It's a robotic dick."

Roxas surprised himself by voicing this information. Perhaps, even though he would argue vehemently against it, he did feel some need to protect the girls from their own personal demise and consequential social suicide.

Larxene arched an already naturally arched eyebrow.

"The boy seems to know what he's talking about," she mused, looking somewhat impressed. "We call this one Dandy Dildo. Well, at least I do anyway. I have a name for that chair you're sitting in, too. Would you like a tour? It has a vibrating seat."

Roxas, obviously, had not investigated that option.

"Nah," he dismissed, trying on Kairi's superior apathy when confronted with things she'd rather not deal with. "I'm here for my feet, and they're anything but orgasmic right now."

The words, he could tell, were floating right over Namine's head. Olette was catching about fifty percent of them – thus her ghastly complexion much akin to alpine snow – and Kairi was successfully ignoring every last exchange taking place behind her.

Larxene looked dimly impressed. This incited a deadly glare from Kairi, who, in all honesty, hadn't even bothered to turn the noise canceling headphones on. She simply did not wish to be bothered by The Sadistic Senior or her right hand man Dandy Dildo.

Also, she did not like the sudden energy that Roxas was thus endowed with while being engaged with a woman who must have something she obviously didn't, for he wasn't this rapt in Bath And Body Works.

(But Kairi, dear, you must understand, no man is rapt in Bath And Body Works. Their sinuses can't handle it.)

"You hang out with Axel, don't you?" Larxene inquired.

Roxas nodded.

"He's hot, isn't he?" There was continued smirking on her behalf.

"Well. He seems to think so."

Roxas could have sworn he heard Namine whispering something about that being the longest sentence to have escaped his mouth since they got here. He'd have to make up a longer one to prove her wrong, later. Something about perfume or platforms or makeup palettes. He was quiet, but still observant. He picked up on more than people thought.

Larxene looked over her anorexic looking shoulder to spy on Kairi, whose body language simply stated: piss off. Maybe it was one Larxene wanted to learn for herself. But for whatever the reason, and regardless of the pretense, she approached the red head and asked if _she_ needed help with anything.

"No comprendo Ingles," came the retort.

Roxas smirked despite himself. This was why Kairi was still his best friend. Regardless of whether or not she forced him to waste his well deserved weekend at the bloody mall.

He couldn't tell if Larxene admired or admonished the challenge, but her smirk grew ever wider, and that was never a good sign, as they would all come to learn.

Sensing tension, and preferring to avoid it, Olette once again suggested Waldenbooks.

Kairi opted to hear this, but as if only to prove her point (or maybe she really did require noise canceling headphone for some obscure reason she never shared with Roxas) she told them to wait a minute while she purchased Sony's newest addition to the world of subsonic sound.

She floated to the counter – and action more graceful and attractive than sauntering, Roxas had to admit, but he didn't have the mind to realize that's exactly the kind of thing Kairi needed to hear – and waited while she shelled out her birthday money for said musical apparatus.

Eventually she returned, clutching a plastic bag bearing the official logo of Sharper Image, and announced she was ready for Waldenbooks.

Roxas was sad to part with his massage chair, but he really didn't want to experience the vibrating seat, which if gleam in Larxene's eye was any indicator, was next on her epic To Do list.

He flew out of the chair and followed the three out of the store.

And they almost made it, too.

Except Kairi's purchase immediately started beeping something cacophonic the moment she crossed through the electromagnetic gate meant to deter shop lifters and the like.

Eyes bulging, she looked to the manager for support, for surely he saw her pay for her item, but he was nowhere to be found.

"Oooh," Larxene cooed from behind the cash register. "Looks like we have someone with sticky fingers. Get back her, Red Head. I need to go through your bag."

Wanting to look supportive, her two female friends followed her, and not wanting to look like a stand off dick, Roxas picked up suit and did the same.

Kairi was turning red as her lips, compliments of the free makeovers at Bonton the three indulged in just prior to entering Sharper Image. It was beginning to look like they should have stayed there, regardless of Roxas' request.

Larxene picked the bag from Kairi's tremulous grasp, letting it dangle from her index like a dirty diaper bag.

"Christ, girl, you're so skinny if you stuck your tongue out and turned sideways you'd look like a zipper."

Kairi's face contorted into some odd combination of fury and embarrassment.

For all her mock superiority and façade of total control, Kairi seemed to be the least secure out of all of them. Namine had a better handle on her emotions. This confused Roxas, but no doubt intrigued him, if the futuristic Forever 21 endeavor was any indicator.

"Yes," Larxene confirmed to her own observation. "Much too skinny for Mr. Dandy Dildo here. Did you think you could take him away from me just like that?"

Namine's eyes turned as large as saucers, and Olette clutched her friend's arm for support.

"I…I…!' Kairi stammered.

But Roxas knew better.

"You put that in there," he grumbled. "You're not as sneaky as you think, _sweetheart_."

He picked up the pet name from Axel, who, more often than not, used it to patronize as opposed to flatter.

Kairi looked eternally grateful. He decided he liked that look on her. Maybe he should have said something sooner.

"You're no fun, Blondie," the black clad employee dismissed, still donning her personalized smirk, like this was still some giant joke, even though she had very nearly killed three girls from humiliation.

"How would you know?" he countered. "Your definition of fun is spending quality time with robotic appendages." He paused. "I prefer to plug into human beings."

Yes. Plug. That will get her, seeing her affinity with all things electric.

Larxene stuck boney hand on boney hip.

"Ya know, Blondie, if you weren't five years younger, I'd almost go out with you."

"Axel is up for grabs," the boy in question offered, and then defensively latched onto Kairi's apparently 'zipper like' arm. "But I've got three other girls I need to balance my time with. Until then, I bid thee ado."

(He figured he'd get kudos from Olette for referencing Shakespeare, but he didn't. Oh well. Maybe next time.)

As the four marched defiantly out the store, Kairi all but squealed the minute they were out of ear shot, "See? I _told_ you there was a reason I dragged him along!"

Olette and Namine nodded in approval.

Okay. So, cool. He was in.

That being silently determined, he was no longer the lager of the group but the leader, appearing to almost have what could be considered an entourage of girls hobbling after him. With another not-so-subtle hint from Olette, they opted to venture into Waldenbooks for the sake of her sanity (and, correspondingly, there's.)

Once inside the musty smelling, but still appealing, bookstore, Roxas couldn't help himself and wandered down into the self help aisle to grab a title he just couldn't resist mocking Kairi with.

"Hey, Kai?" he petitioned.

She looked up from her Cosmetology Encyclopedia.

"Look. Karma Sutra."

He then brandished a hard cover, wildly proclaiming a new position ever day in ninety point font with rather repulsive neon colors to match.

"That counteracts everything you just did for me," she muttered dryly.

But she was still smiling. So he figured it was all good.

o-o-o-o

Author's Note

o-o-o-o

I had to pay some homage to Sunny in this chapter – especially with the zipper comment. Her profile is nothing short of hilarious, I assure you. Hope you don't mine, dearie. 3

And, yes, Olive, you just got two updates in, like, two days. You owe me your soul.

And as for Serena? I'm all up for the movie rendition. Let's talk numbers, shall we?

(And yes, I am aware Sharper Image is no longer an operating store. Consider this its eulogy. Ha.)


	5. Hot Topic

_Hot Topic_

o-o-o-o

"If you spank your child in Hallmark, it's called parenting. If you spank you're child in Hot Topic, it's called child abuse"

o-o-o-o

Kairi appears to have poured herself into her jeans today.

At least, that's what it seems, given the tightness and general lack of excess fabric.

But – who knows? Roxas has been wrong before. Maybe she painted them on this morning. Maybe her skin was malting to show its true nature. Maybe she had a denim colored rash all over her lower extremities.

All of these options are plausible. Roxas can't be forced to pick just one.

Either way, he is enjoying having his hand in her back pocket, something she allowed without a word or backwards glance. Roxas surprised even himself by rallying up enough testosterone to carry the feat out.

"I need to go to Hot Topic," Kairi decides, once again meandering down the halls of the local mall. She has been frequenting it so much lately the girl is liable to take up temporary residency in one of the dressing rooms. This would not surprise Roxas. He may even go along with it, if he got to go in the dressing room with her.

"And why is that?" he queries, knowing that the why is not important, he'll be forced to accompany her just the same.

"I want a nose ring."

This declaration sends him for a loop, but all that comes out is a gargle. He has no words.

"Don't worry, nothing permanent. Just one of the subtle, magnetic deals, ya know?"

"Kairi…" he begins, forehead swathed by his one free palm. "You don't know how to _be_ subtle."

"Quiet. Or I'll remove your hand."

"From my body or yours?"

Kairi has to think about that one.

While she is pondering an impending amputation, Roxas spots none other than the gregarious, scintillating, affable, well mannered Axel manning the cash register of the store his girlfriend is aspiring to go into. (Please note all previous adjectives used to describe said employee were self appointed, and Roxas was only reiterating what he had only heard one too many times from the man in question himself.)

"Kairi, do we have to do this today?"

"Why not?" she asks, genuinely confused. "Today is as good a day as any. Unless you want to go back to, like, Forever 21 or something…"

"It's just … never mind."

Isn't Axel Roxas' best friend?

Yes.

Isn't Axel liable to mount anything with a pulse?

Yes.

Isn't Kairi wearing pants so tight they would probably split down the seams if she so much as bent over?

Roxas could not foresee this ending well.

"I'll pay," he offers, thinking Forever 21 may perhaps be a good alternative.

"Roxas, please," his girlfriend scoffs. "You're going to pay anyway."

He kind of already knew that.

She enters the store without a care in the world, and Roxas wants to fasten his grip on her hind quarters, but he doesn't foresee that ending well either.

"Yo, Blondie!"

Commence the Discordia.

He tries to disguise his instinctual grimace. Best friend. He's your best friend. Just keep telling yourself that.

He feels Kairi go pawing through her purse as they pass through the brick entryway, and this averts his attention momentarily. Was she actually taking the initiative to procure her wallet and pay for this apparent subtle nose ring herself?

Come to think of it, does Kairi even _own_ a wallet?

"You lose something?" Roxas murmurs, leaning closer than necessary – or perhaps not, the music in Hot Topic plays at the loudest legal decibel, and usually involves a lot of unnecessary screaming and hollering, not to mention the bashing of drums and crashing of cymbals. Not to say punk rock isn't appealing in its own right – it's all Axel will listen to when he drives, aside from heavy metal and the occasional emo band he claims really isn't emo but really kind of is – it's just that when shopping with someone other than yourself, it is nigh impossible to hold a conversation while in the confines of the store.

Kairi answers him by producing a set of noise canceling headphones that look alarmingly familiar.

"…Are those…?"

"Yeah huh!" she shouts to be heard over the music. "The ones from Sharper Image? Remember? I was cleaning out my room the other day and I found these! Kind of nostalgic, right? Anyway – I think I'm going to put them on now. I don't particularly favor this music. Do you happen to know sign language?"

Roxas does not.

"The middle finger?" he tries.

"And here I was, expecting you to maybe attempt something cute and gimme the sign for 'I Love You.'"

"I don't know that one."

"Figures."

She sighs dramatically and places the headphones over her ears. They swamp her head, and Roxas is surprised her neck can support the weight. (And he knows her neck quite well.) She flicks on the switch located at the end of the raveling wire, which disappears into the giant black abyss that is her purse. Once geared up, she continues into the store and goes straight for the shiny things located somewhere on the left of the store, behind the S & M lingerie and in front of a vast array of … Disney items.

Why anyone would be interesting in walking, talking, singing animal rodents it beyond him. What a stupid gimmick. Amazing how it actually sells.

"Aw! Look at cute little Mickey!"

Kairi points at a random tee, twiggy arm extended over head.

Roxas isn't looking at Mickey. Roxas is looking at the three inches of midriff he gets to be graced with whenever Kairi raises her arms above her head. To hell with Mickey. Who needs Mickey?

"Ahem, Blondie, I need some recognition here."

Oh. Right. Best friend.

"Hey Axel."

There. He complied. He was being a good boy. A good, non possessive, boy. Yes. That's it.

"Can I copy your chem homework for tonight? I gotta pull this double shift thing, and, I dunno, my brain cells hurt, man. They hurt. I just can't deal with trying to balance out frickin' chemical equations. I mean, it would be cool if they taught us how to blow stuff up, like with nitro or napalm or whatever, but all we ever get to play with is iron and sulfur. I mean. Come on now. They banned me from the Bunsen Burners, did I tell you that? I guess I got too carried away. Lit the end of Namine's hair on fire. Didn't mean to, mind you. Tried to fix it. Offered to take her out for ice cream or whatever. Denied. Must not know a good thing when she sees it. In fact, a good thing could bite – or burn – her in the ass and she would be none the wiser. She has a nice ass, by the way, don't you think? Needs some curves, though. Eating disorder, maybe? Wouldn't be surprised. Hey, how come you're not talking, man?"

"You forget to breathe."

"I do not," he argues, inhaling for emphasis. "Though, admittedly, I prefer to suck."

He waits for his humor to be reciprocated. And it would be, too, if his best friend hadn't other things on his mind.

"Wow. Lame ass. I didn't even get a smirk outta you. What the hell?"

"Uh. Just tired. Is all."

So far Axel hasn't picked up on the fact that a scantily clad girl was perusing the nose rings – which happened to be, ironically, Axel's specialty. Aside from his 'guy liner,' Axel advocated the rabid use of metal to decorate one's face. He had enough metallic pieces lodged into his skin to power a small third world country if stuck by lightning.

"Right. I didn't sleep well last night, either. 'Course, that was because I had someone else to sleep _with_…"

"Spare me the details."

"What?!" Axel asks, shocked. "Dude, what is wrong with you today? You usually want to take notes!"

Thank the gods for noise canceling headphones. Seriously.

"Anyway, you still dating that Kairi chick?"

She's standing right over there. How oblivious could this man be?

So, as it goes, Roxas had quite a tough time of drilling the fact he was now dating his (former) best friend into his (current) best friend's easily distracted mind. Since Axel picked a new flavor every week, he immediately assumed all penises followed suit and did the same. Having a steady relationship was not something his pea brained mind could comprehend. After about six months, he finally managed to learn Kairi's name, but still couldn't pick her out in a crowd. Didn't give his own conquests the time of day – let alone his comrade's.

Let it be known Axel was also operating under the false misconception that he actually held the spot of 'best friend' now that Kairi was 'out of the picture' as far as 'platonic relationships' were concerned.

Roxas often wanted to scream at him – at the top of his lungs – Kairi was _still_ his best friend, would always _be_ his best friend, and nothing he could say or do would ever _change_ that – but Axel is hard to persuade. Perhaps he ignores her existence because he doesn't like losing at anything – even his male relationships.

So Roxas plays along. Sometimes. Depending on who is present. And right now, they both were. And that was not good.

He did not know if they would fight over him, or if they would fight over her.

…And did she _really_ need that nose ring?

"If you'll excuse me," Axel croons, eyes perking. "Fresh meat."

Roxas feels his stomach flip. "That's my girlfriend, you moron."

But the music is too loud and Axel is too dense.

"Hello there sweetheart. And what can I help you with this fine evening?"

Kairi, predictably (and for obvious noise canceling reasons), ignores him.

Roxas smirks despite himself. Ha ha ha. You lose. I win. Game over.

"Um. Can I help you find something?"

Kairi is absorbed in comparing two diamond studs.

And she said she wanted to go subtle.

Axel looks over to Roxas and makes his patented 'what the frick' face.

Roxas shrugs and tries to look innocent. He can hardly pull it off.

"And – holy hell – you're wearing headphones."

Axel sighs at this phenomenon, and then takes it upon himself to rid Kairi of this interfering item.

"Hey!" she squeaks indignantly. "Roxas, give 'em back! I am trying to concentrate here!"

Without looking behind her, she starts to mindless grope at Axel's shirt.

"Back," she repeats, shifting her items over to one hand. "I want my headphones back, you dick."

"They sell those at Spencer's," Axel offers, trying to be helpful, of course. "Always knew they meant it when they said the customers come first."

At this, Kairi whirls around, topples over on her Sketchers, and lands in a heap on the floor.

Well, almost. Axel catches her half way down.

Aw. Crap.

"Lemme go," she grumbles, scampering onto her twiggy legs and brushing Axel off. "And gimme back my headphones."

She tries to retrieve them. Unsuccessfully.

Roxas is trying to plan his entrance. His grand, swooping entrance, in which he will save the day, abscond with said headphones, and make Axel feel inferior. For once.

While he is busy scheming, Axel is dangling the Sharper Image purchase right above Kairi's head, perfectly out of reach, for he towers over he like a malnourished sky scraper.

"So. You got a name?"

Kairi huffs. "Yes."

And that is all.

"You're a tricky one."

"I would like my headphones back, please."

Axel squints at her, his mind slowly registering something.

Roxas is still preoccupied trying to figure out what witty thing to say next. Things are not going well for him.

"You look familiar."

"That's nice. So do you."

Silence.

Kairi finally determines that she has had enough.

"Roxas! Will you get over here and kick him in the crotch for me? I don't want to stub my toe."

"Christ, woman, I'm not that hard."

She veers. "Your reputation precedes you."

Roxas finally falls back into this plane of reality and stumbles over to aid his girlfriend. Not the entrance he was planning. At all.

"Mine," he chokes out.

Yes. Good job. All that planning and all that brooding. And all you can come up with is: mine. You should write a book.

"Yours?" Axel repeats. "Then what the hell were you doing over there?!"

"…Scheming," he offers honestly. Pause. "Still. Mine."

"I am not for sale here!" Kairi squawks indignantly. "And – mine? Roxas, what the hell?"

He figures his hand won't be making a return to his girlfriend's pocket anytime soon.

He chooses to blame the nose ring industry. And correspondingly Axel. Just because.

"I'd treat you better," Axel offers. He pauses. "And give you a discount," he tacks on. "Because I can do that. And you, my dear, are definitely worth it."

Kairi seems to still be steaming over being referred to as 'mine.'

"I'm not a cave man, I swear," Roxas explains, rushed, embarrassed, and trying to resuscitate his relationship before it dies right there in front of him.

He's always felt slightly inferior to Axel. He's just never admitted it.

And he thought Kairi was pretty much off limits, not fair playing ground.

What a lousy stand in best friend. Marluxia offers more loyalty.

"Discount," Axel reminds her, in case she didn't hear him over Roxas' garbled apologies. "Discount dating, how does that sound?"

"Kind of like prostitution," Roxas offers, acid dripping off his words.

He goes to grope for Kairi, but she pulls away. Dammit.

"How much?" she finally inquires.

"Oh, holy hell, Kairi, don't do this," Roxas pleas. "This isn't funny."

"I dunno. Could be negotiable. How much do you want it for?"

"Kairi. Seriously."

"Preferably for free," she says.

"Well. Sweetheart. We'd have to excuse ourselves to the back room for that to happen."

"…Is it air conditioned?"

Roxas is burning up. If she was trying to get back at him, it was working. It was definitely, definitely working. And he had had enough.

"Kairi this is actually starting to physically hurt."

"What? Your pride?"

Axel starts snickering. "I'll drop it fifty percent and we can let the boyfriend watch."

"I have a _name_," he hisses, and he can't believe he's reminding Axel of this.

"Funny. Cuz Kairi didn't two seconds ago."

Aw. Bloody hell.

"So what do you want me to do?"

"Kairi, I thought the point of this was to prove you _weren't_ a piece of meat…"

"It's illegal," Axel explains. "In most countries. America is one of them. So let's go with my second choice, shall we?"

"Dammit Kairi, I'll pay for the stupid nose ring, can we just go now? Please?"

"Name it."

Roxas gives up. He just stops talking. Words aren't coming out. His mouth isn't cooperating. And his throat is closing up.

Kairi eyes him something funny, a look of alarm briefly making a guest appearance on her face, and then she is back to her previous scowl of cold hearted contempt. He must have really set her off.

"Well, seeing as though technically you are – well, were – dating my best friend here, I guess I'll go easy on you. Or him. I can settle of a kiss. Sans tongue, because I don't think Blondie could handle the salvia exchange without going into cardiac arrest."

Roxas is looking at his shoes waiting for this to be over.

Then he can promptly go out and commit suicide. Or something else equally as drastic. Perhaps perform penile amputation on his faux best friend. Sounds appealing.

"A kiss?" she repeats, looming closer and increasing their proximity. "That's all?"

She's got her backseat face on. That come hither look. The 'please unhook my water bra for me' request in her eyes. This is comparable to Iraqi torture. Roxas would rather yank out his own teeth. Individually.

And as she leans in for the kill, poised and ready for action, Axel rendered somewhat shocked this match was so easy, she turns away at the last minute, swings back her lanky chicken bone arm, and issues a slap that could be heard two floors down and then some. The custodial team laboring away in the basement probably heard the repercussions. It was comparable to a sonic boom. Roxas actually flinched.

"You disgusting excuse for a human being," she hissed.

Roxas dimly notes his friend's boner is sticking out like a flagpole plotted on a conquered land. He was really expecting Kairi to go through with this.

Truth be told: Roxas did too.

"You think I'd cheat on my boyfriend over a nose ring?"

"Well, you seemed to be aiming in that general direction, sweets. I mean – "

She latches onto Roxas' arm – rigid as it is from shock. It felt as though he had gone into temporary rigor mortis.

(Which could hold true if this were not an alternate retelling and Roxas were to remain deceased, but seeing as though he is rendered alive in this version, the comparison is somewhat valid.)

"Oh you are _so_ incorrigible," she breathes, snatching the headphones from Axel's now limp grasp (which is the only extremity that is limp – the other one is still at half mast.)

"You shouldn't use big words you don't know the meaning to," the man returns, trying to maintain his typical bravado but finding it hard. His left cheek is turning as bright as his hair. "Reading your vocabulary textbook again, I presume."

"At least I'm literate," she counters, sticking ski slope nose high in the air. "Which is more than I – we – can say for you."

"We're still a we?" Roxas finally comes back with.

"Apparently," Axel drips. "Congratulations."

Kairi, now high on adrenaline and whatever other hormone teenage girls exude, promptly cuffs one of the diamond studs she was previously inspecting into the palm of her hand.

"I'm stealing this," she informs the employee in front of her. "And you are not going to stop me."

She, with stolen nose ring in one hand and Roxas' stick straight arm in the other, then marches out of the store, the wire of her noise canceling headphones dragging behind defiantly.

(Roxas wordlessly retrieves it and returns the item to her purse before she trips and falls and ruins this otherwise very dramatic moment.)

Once out of Hot Topic ear shot (which is about three feet, given the music) she turns to Roxas, smirking something audacious, apparently very proud of her previous feat.

"I'm a criminal," she says with pride, aiming for a laugh but coming up blank.

Roxas is still rendered incapable of intelligent sentences.

"Roxas?"

She nudges her boyfriend with a very pointy elbow.

He doesn't look her in the eye. Can't.

"Oh my gosh – Roxas? Were you … are you … actually choking up?"

"Allergies," comes his one word reply, gaze still averted to the floor. It had nice tiles.

"It's the middle of winter."

"I'm allergic to snow."

There is a silence in which Kairi can do nothing but gape at the emotion that is practically bleeding out of her boyfriend's pours.

"I'm sorry I referred to you as mine."

He continues to stare fixated at the ground.

"But I am."

He risks a glance northward.

"Just don't word it like that," she returns flatly. "It's a feminist thing. You wouldn't understand. You don't have a uterus."

He nods.

"Okay. So. Food Court." Kairi is now back to plotting their excursion. "And then Game Stop."

"Game Stop?" Roxas repeats incredulously.

"Yes. Game Stop." She paws around her purse again. "I've decided I'm going to buy you something today."

She tucks away the noise canceling headphones and secures the diamond nose stud in the folds of her purse. Afterwards, she wordlessly links arms with her boyfriend once again, this time scooting a little closer than before, almost close enough to shed hair into his mouth again.

Roxas smiles and sticks his hand in her back pocket.

Looks like he won after all.

o-o-o-o

Author's Notes

o-o-o-o

Typical shout outs include Olive for inspiration; Serena for bribery; Za Za for reading; and everyone else for reading and reviewing. Much love to all of you. And cookies.

I seem to have already outlined the entire next chapter. So expect updates. Soon.

(Wow. Vixen never updates anything under the pretense of 'soon.')

I'm losing my procrastination virginity here. I've had it since I was born and now I'm giving it up. Alas, I doubt it will be missed.

The next chapter is going to be insane. Consider yourselves warned.

(And no, they are not going to Game Stop. Sorry.)

(Also: all Mickey innuendo was intentional. And I love Disney. Just wanted to employ some irony, is all. Don't hate me for it. XD)


	6. Sephora

_Sephora_

o-o-o-o

"Real men aren't afraid to wear pink."

o-o-o-o

Roxas is trying to figure out where milk originally came from.

He ponders this as he walks through the mall with Kairi, hand and hand, their psychical proximity close but mentally they are miles and miles apart. Kairi is busy thinking about the upcoming prom, so hard there are practically smoke tendrils pluming forth from her ears, and Roxas is preoccupied musing over the origins of calcium.

This is typical.

"Hey, Kai, you ever wondered where milk first came from?"

Kairi, who should have been thrown off guard by this quandary that would have sent any other girlfriend's head for a spin, simply accepts her boyfriend's unpredictable nature and even puts a little bit of thought into her answer.

"No."

Okay. So maybe not as much thought as I originally gave her credit for.

"Well. Like. Think about it. Who was the first person to go up to a cow's udder and say, 'hm, I think I'll drink whatever comes out of these things.'"

"Presumably a farmer."

"You don't find that weird?" Roxas buffers, his nose scrunching up. "Randomly squeezing the underside of an animal and then selling whatever the hell happens to come out?"

"…They probably saw the calves doing it first."

"And chicken breasts," he continues, without missing a beat. "I love how we call them chicken breasts. Why doesn't anyone call them what they are and say: chicken boobs?"

"Nobody would eat a … boob."

"Then why the hell are we drinking cow voids? I mean … it could have been … it could have been _sperm_ or something."

Kairi blinks at her rambling boyfriend – who is currently making no sense and not even coming off as slightly funny. Just insane.

"Did you swipe some of that liquid sugar again?"

"Some?" he laughs. "They were having a sale at Shop Right. I bought them clear out of stock."

"Since when did they start selling liquid sugar at Shop Right?"

"I dunno. I guess you have to know where to look."

Kairi's brow furrows, the only sign of mental activity she ever actually shows, and figures it best to press on with her original intent.

"I need to stop by Sephora."

"That's nice," Roxas says absent mindedly, not realizing the kind of store Sephora is. "What do they sell there?"

"Make up."

Pause.

"And perfume," she adds hopefully, as if the addition of new and exotic fragrances would somehow change her boyfriend's predetermined outlook.

"Yeah. Um. I have to go to the bathroom. Don't wait up."

Kairi let's her eyes roll around in their thickly outlined sockets – she's been experimenting with eye liner lately and Roxas doesn't have the heart to tell her that her cosmetic ventures look more like she smeared goose poop than that 'smokey and sexy' appearance she was originally going for.

"Roxas – the prom is only three weeks away and I have to start looking for a foundation that compliments my complexion."

"…Huh?"

The only foundation Roxas happens to be privy to is the kind used to fortify sky scrapers.

"Just tag along. You're good at that."

Roxas let's himself be dragged to the front of a highly pungent alcove, housing the notorious make up store filled to the brim with females of every shape and size - and the occasional emo boy looking to restore his 'guy liner.'

"I can't go in there," Roxas concludes after witnessing the procession of suit clad employees ushering girl after girl into the store. "I have asthma. I'll die."

"Hold your nose, then," Kairi offers, pressing onward into the depths of cosmetology.

"I left my inhaler at home," he continues to blather, as his best friend graciously accepts hand out after hand out from the line of greeters sabotaging the front door. "And there's too much pink in here. I can't do this. It's an affront to my masculinity."

"Roxas," Kairi dead pans, turning around to face him amidst the lipsticks. "You do realize my dress is pink, right?"

He pauses.

"That's nice."

Kairi glowers.

"Good for you," he adds, thinking more affirmation was called for, and perhaps that is why his significant other looked like she wanted to rip his head off and crap down his neck.

"Your tie is going to have to match," she hints – or rather, informs – her prom dancing companion. "You need to make amends with the color pink and go to whatever therapy you need to before springtime. It's just a color. A color that looks damn good on me. And everyone knows that the prom is always – always – about the girl. So you'll have to learn to make due."

Roxas opens his mouth, starts to say something, and then closes it again.

He's aware Kairi has been dealing with her own fair share of bull concerning the aforementioned festivities. Typical locker room cat fight nonsense – something about how she told Namine she wasn't going to invest in a box of condoms because Roxas and her were not going to sleep together that night, and just because everyone else assumed that they had been sleeping together since Christmas doesn't mean they were – and they weren't going to until she had her ring and he had his degree – so there was no need to join her typical clique of highly polished girlfriends when they started discussing such matters.

Her absence in such conversations eventually caught on, and now she was the official 'prude,' to which Roxas offered little consolation except hysterical laughter, and in retrospect that is exactly what she needed but would never admit to, so she slapped him anyway.

After the brutality was issued, he meekly offered up the praise, "Well, you're good at second … "

Another slap.

And moving on.

"Is this prom really that important to you?" Roxas asked, genuinely interested in whatever answer he was about to be graced with.

"No." Pause. "Yes." Pause. "I dunno."

She averted her gaze to the floor.

"Fine. Pink it is," he grumbled. "But you owe me one."

She did some high pitched squeaky thing and clung to Roxas' arm.

He took this as a sign of gratitude.

"So. Er. What are we looking for again?"

He surveys the interior of the store, scanning over shelf after shelf of powdered and liquid and tacky substances, all arranged by company and distinct purpose.

Roxas just thinks it looks like somebody barfed on the walls.

"Foundation," Kairi repeats, craning her neck to see past the nail polish and pedicure kiosk.

Roxas risks a glance westward to see the colored bottles all lined up, one right after the other, about eight different variations of the same shade all sold for the same price, and going by names like 'Hot Stuff' and 'Drop Dead Sexy.'

"Since when did Drop Dead Sexy become a hue on the color wheel?" he muses out loud.

He picks up yet another shade of crimson boldly called, 'Stop Traffic.'

"I don't get this."

"Roxas. Think about it. It's red."

"Yeah. That much I figured out," he grouses, putting the polish back on the shelf. "So why don't they just call it, like, I dunno, red?"

"Because there's more than one shade of red, moron. And besides, they're trying to be original. Think of a traffic light."

"A what?"

"A traffic light. The ones you always speed through. They have three different colors, right?"

"Yeah. Green, yellow, and red," he recites, placing intentional emphasis on the simplicity of the color red. "Not green, yellow, and Drop Dead Sexy."

"Roxas. Drop Dead Sexy is the other bottle. This one is called Stop Traffic. And it makes sense. Red lights stop traffic. Get it?"

Silence.

"That's lame."

"You're just saying that because you weren't smart enough to come up with it."

"No. I would still think it was lame. And I would be lame by association."

" … Just help me find a foundation, please."

Roxas sighs and treks through aisles that reek of nail polish and aisles that reek even more due to the spraying of one too many different perfumes. He can feel his throat spasming but does his best to ignore it. Operation: Find The Foundation. Then they could go hang out in the back seat and go to second. Which is usually where they stopped. Usually.

Right as he was about to be helplessly lost to his own clairvoyant reverie – a man of lanky build and rather ornately feathered hair approached the duo as Kairi rummaged through box after box of skin tone.

"May I be of assistance?"

"Foundation," Kairi orders from the depths of the shelf that seems to have swallowed up her head. "For me. Not him."

Roxas' eyes bulge at the insinuation.

"Ah, I see. Will the young sir be requiring assistance for another product, perhaps?"

"Hell no," Roxas answers immediately.

He then nudges Kairi's boney hip.

"Dude. The guy is wearing pink."

Kairi pops her head out and decides to introduce herself.

"Hello," she says, shaking the hand of the effeminate man. "My name is Kairi. And you are officially my hero."

"Marluxia," the man answers. "And I am honored."

"Hero?" Roxas spits. "Why? Because he's wearing pink?"

"Real men are not afraid to wear pink," the salesman – Marluxia – counters. "Or exfoliate, for that matter."

"Exfoli – what?"

"I think you could do better than him," Marluxia offers.

"Thanks for the recommendation," Kairi responds. "But I'll make due with what I have."

Roxas snorts.

He tries to take a peek at this quack in black's coiffed hair and highlighted veneer, wondering what went wrong in the gene pool and who's highly deformed sperm and reluctant egg combined to make this atrocity.

"Male cosmetology is the final frontier," Marluixa says, looking at straight at Roxas who was trying oh so hard to be discreet. "It takes balls to pull this off."

"Yes. Well. Thank you for confirming you own a pair."

Kairi's goose pooped eyes grow huge.

"Just ignore him. He hasn't taken his pills today."

"I'm afraid I can not," Marluxia muses, placing dainty finger on dainty lip in dainty thought.

"Wh – what?" Kairi gasps. "Well, can I just pay for this Honey Bronze Sea Shore Shimmer first?"

"Good heavens, who _names_ this crap?"

"In a moment, yes," the man drawls, eyes never leaving Roxas' face.

"Look, I like eye contact just as much as the next guy, but I prefer it be the eyes of someone from the opposite gender." Pause. "Then again … "

"He already admitted to having balls, Roxas, what more do you want? A sneak peak?"

"Let's just buy your Shimmer Shit and get outta here."

"I am not using my eyes," Marluxia continues, almost as if the lover's quarrel had never taken place (don't worry, there'll be another one in the next ten minutes.) "I am utilizing my nasal passages."

Silence.

"That's … um … great."

"You reek of Old Spice. Which tells me more than you can imagine."

"Yeah – I have to shop cheap so I can afford _her_. Now, if you'll kindly excuse us, we have an appointment with cashier who happens to know what chromosome is more dominate in her body."

"I have just the thing to ameliorate your ungodly odor."

"My ungodly – what?"

"Please, do tell," Kairi beseeches, clutching her Sand Shimmer Shit close to her still not quite ample chest.

"Dude. Asthma. Don't make me do this."

"You don't _really_ have asthma, do you?"

"Kairi, why the hell would I lie about – "

"This way, please."

Kairi volunteers her boyfriend as Marluxia ushers him to the manly section of the perfume – commonly known as the cologne wall.

"Ya know, I use to use Axe," Roxas grumbles into his girlfriend's ear. "But then I met this guy named Axel, and – "

"You've told me. Now be quiet so we can have you stop reeking."

"You didn't have a problem with my Old Spice _before _we met this drag queen. Besides, I can't afford shimmer and cologne, so pick one, sweetheart."

"I hate your ultimatums."

"Not as much as I hate this store."

Marluxia peruses shelf after shelf of what Selphie had always called 'The Nice Smelly Stuff' for what seemed like ages before arriving at the exact alchemic mix he was looking for.

"Free samples," is the only warning Roxas gets before being spritzed in the face with a torrent of aroma friendly chemicals that just so happened to trigger his gag reflex … and an uncalled for allergic reaction.

At first, Kairi thought it was a joke. Because. Well. She just did.

But then Roxas started coughing maniacally, clasping his throat with both hands as he sputtered and gasped for air.

It wasn't until he fell to his knees that Kairi started screaming.

Roxas doesn't remember much. He was concentrating too hard on trying to stay alive. Trying to get air into his rapidly closing lungs. Trying not to panic while he silently cursed himself for leaving his inhaler at home.

Right before everything went black, he let out a string of mental epitaphs, all heaping anathema upon himself for carking it a virgin.

o-o-o-o

He awakes to the painful lights of a tile ceiling and the smell not of flowers and roses and other scents with nonsensical titles, but rather the odor of hand sanitizer and latex and rubbing alcohol.

Also, he had an oxygen mask over his face.

Well. This wasn't what he was expecting.

"Omigosh – Roxas!"

He doesn't have time to turn his head a fraction of an inch before Kairi practically leaps onto him, wires and tubes and all, and throws her arms around his torso while crying pathetically into his chest.

Between the sobs he thinks he hears hints of 'asshole' and 'I love you,' but he can't be sure.

Apparently it doesn't take much physical contact to make his pulse quicken, for a nurse meandered in seconds later to check his vital signs.

"He's awake!" Kairi chirps, elated, yet crying. "He's alive! My boyfriend is alive!"

The nurse nods encouragingly, unsure of how to handle this situation. Of course he was alive. If he were dead they wouldn't have bothered with the oxygen mask.

"Did you see heaven?" she blabbers.

He wants to pull an Axel and go: 'Baby, you _are_ my heaven,' but various medical apparatus prevent such melodramatic proclamations.

Besides, Kairi could be hell sometimes. So he figures the omission of this particular statement is just fine.

He shakes his head in response to her question.

The nurse leaves the room, but not without issuing a strict warning stating that Roxas was not to be touched in any way, shape, or form until he had fully recovered all his senses. Really, there is no harm in touching someone who just had an asthma attack, but Kairi was full on glomping him, trying to crawl under the sheets and into the bed all at the same time. He figures the nurse made him sound a lot sicker than need be. It didn't matter, though, the moment the nurse disappeared behind the curtain Kairi wrapped herself around Roxas' arm and continued to shiver as she tried to swallow her sobs and stuff them back in her mouth.

Roxas finally gains the coherency to pry the oxygen mask off his mouth.

Not the smartest idea, but some things need to be done in the name of love.

The first words he chose to whisper lovingly into his girlfriend's ear were none other than the declaration, "I hate you."

Kairi's head pops up like a Whack A Mole and she squeaks in response to his voice and lack of oxygen mask.

"Put that back on!" she hisses, wiping residue snot away with the back of her hand.

Gods. She was still beautiful, even shit faced.

The black eye liner she had so generously applied that morning was now running down her cheeks in rivulets of ebony, making her look like a misplaced hooker with a penchant for Cover Girl.

Next thing out of Roxas' mouth: "Don't break up with me."

He says this with eyes squeezed shut – for the light is too bright and Kairi is too loud, and he wants to look at her and take her in, sloppy eye liner and all, and tell her he was fine and everything was going to be okay and he'd wear that damn pink tie if she really wanted him too – but he was having a difficult time adhering himself to reality.

Kairi continues to prattle on, all of her words coming out in one long exhalation, and Roxas has no clue what she is trying to say, except that she was cutting off the circulation in his arm and he didn't really aspire to become an amputee anytime soon.

He tries to sit up, stupidly, of course, but since the head on his shoulders was so addled he let his other head take over. And that head had one prerogative: Kairi.

His girlfriend looks at a loss of whether or not to slam him back down on the bed or help him upright, and in the end she does neither because she is too busy biting her lip to keep it from trembling.

She moves in to say something – or possibly do something – and despite surrendering total authority over to his head of the nether regions, his common sense picked a lousy time to kick in and say: "Don't kiss me, either. I'm still having trouble breathing."

Dammit. He didn't plan on that, either.

"Well for Christ's sake you moron, then put the mask back on!"

Kairi has him muzzled in a matter of seconds.

Such activity makes his head reel on its figurative axis and he plummets backwards onto the pillow again.

And, for the love of all things sacred, Kairi was still blubbering about … something.

Apologies, most likely.

At least, Roxas likes to think so.

He wraps his fingers around her sweaty hand and tries to fight the ebbing lethargy he feels, its presence threatening to take over any minute now.

She grows silent upon this feat, and for once closes her mouth and simply squeezes back.

Roxas, despite feeling like an entire herd of elephants had paraded across his chest, is content with the knowledge of Kairi's proximity and her hand holding his.

He nudges the mask off one more time before retreating to the depths of blackness once more.

"Thanks for the kiss of life," he croaks, trying to smirk but not sure if he managed to pull it off.

Kairi's soot stained eyes widen at this compliment, and Roxas quickly backtracks and tries to figure out what he said wrong.

"You … you have Marluxia to thank for that. I was too busy sobbing. I couldn't … I just couldn't … my mind was racing towards the funeral and you in the casket and then in the ground and … and then Marluxia announces he's certified in first aid and I was all like 'oh thank God!' and he bent over you and I just couldn't stop crying even though I was so happy and and and … Roxas? Roxas, can you hear me?"

Roxas has somehow managed to pass out again.

But Kairi can't figure out why.

So she settles for screaming _code red_ at the top of her lungs, even though Roxas, physically speaking, at any rate, is now perfectly fine.

Mentally is another story.

o-o-o-o

Kairi jumps three miles in the air when the door bell rings.

Despite the fact that she is wearing dangerously high heels, she sprints to the front door and throws it open, her face radiating with so much Sea Shore Shimmer Shit she practically looks metallic, but that doesn't stop Roxas from appreciating the lacking straps on Kairi's tube top prom dress.

Of course, he could have done without the massive arrangement of general poofiness, for lack of a better word, that seems to burst forth from her waist on down, but he likes the bare shoulders, so he can't really complain.

"Ohmigosh!"

Roxas freezes, sensing he did something horrifically wrong.

He didn't want to ruin this night. Not really. He complained about it for weeks beforehand, but in the end, he just wanted Kairi to be happy.

"You actually went through with it!" she gasps, stepping onto the porch to meet him, even though Roxas is pretty sure it's supposed to go the other way around.

"With what?" he questions guardedly.

"A pink tie!"

She picks it up for inspection.

Roxas tries to look as nonchalant as possible, but really, he had a practically topless Kairi right under his nose, and even if she did wear as little as possible year round, she did look damn good in pink.

"Breast cancer?" she ventures upon bringing it up to her eye level, which, thankfully, she had decided _not_ to draw big black circles around this time.

Roxas shrugs at the logo sewn onto the bottom of the tie.

"Well, I figured if I'm going to go down in pink, I might as well go down for a good cause."

And this – this right here, right now – is exactly why Kairi loves him.

But she can't say that. Because she just doesn't know how.

So instead she opts to go with the declarative statement, "Good. Because you sure as hell won't be going down on me."

Roxas sighs.

As if she really needed to remind him.

o-o-o-o

Author's Note

o-o-o-o

Eeeeep – sorry this took so long! I had it all written out, I swear! But the hospital called and I had to answer, thus my scribbles were left at home and my half finished story left at the mercy of binary and cyberspace.

Thank you all so very, very much for your kind reviews and favors of this story. I truly do appreciate it, and apologize if I did not review reply to everyone this time around.

You all have SoraxKairi7 to thank this time. She inspired me with marvelous helpings of benevolency and her awesome demeanor.

Also, I'm sure my newly prescribed Ritalin played some role in it, too. XD

Next stop? Mwa ha ha. I'm not telling.

(Though it did require a trip to the mall – for research purposes, of course.)

Hopefully I'll have the next chapter up sometime before we all find ourselves in nursing homes, Y/Y?

And, as always: I love my Olive Embers. Tee hee.

(LOL: OH MARLUXIA, HOW I LOVE STEREOTYPING YOUR CHARACTER!)


	7. Payless

_Payless_

o-o-o-o

"Why the hell don't they sell stilettos at Footlocker?!"

o-o-o-o

"Now, not to sound prude or anything, because I know how much you love to just spend all my hard earned cash on whatever fanciful item catches your whimsy, but considering we're, like, three weeks away from graduation, which means – ya know, college is coming and stuff – I really don't have the finances to invest in whatever the hell you plan on wearing to your last night at High School."

There. That was good. Let's try it again. This time without the note cards.

"Now, not to sound prude or anything, because I – "

There's a knock at the front door.

"Aw, crap."

It's Kairi. And Roxas hasn't finished practicing in front of the mirror yet.

He quickly searches for some place to hide his hastily made cue cards (written in pink gel pen, no less; he was a desperate lack of options in study hall and Selphie was the only one around) finally decides to stash them under the china vase situated in the foyer, and calmly makes his way to the front door.

He opens it. And there is Kairi. There is his audience. All lights are go.

"Now, not to sound prude or anything, because I know how much – "

"Spare me," Kairi interrupts, dainty hand thrown in front of Roxas' now flummoxed face. "The windows were open."

o-o-o-o

Feeling like the cheap bastard he always wanted to be, and finding he didn't quite like the feeling once he obtained it, Roxas tries yet again to persuade his girlfriend to go against the very thing he was fighting for.

"Are you sure you're okay with this? Like, you're not going to disintegrate the minute you step foot in a thrift store, are you?"

"No Roxas, I'm perfectly fine." Here she pauses. "I do draw the line at Walmart, however."

Damn. Walmart was responsible for half his wardrobe. And that was _before_ he hooked up with Kairi.

(Now the local Good Will is starting to look more and more appealing.)

"Besides, Payless is, like, I dunno, trendy, right?"

… And cheap, he doesn't bother saying.

Yes. Thank the gods for cheap.

And sales. And coupons. And discounts. And Black Friday. And –

"Well, don't just stand there in the wake of your good fortune and my ever so generous mood," Kairi prods, giving Roxas a little half shove into the store. "Come on. You probably need shoes too, right? Your prom ones got – "

"I _know_ what happened to my prom shoes, Kairi," he cuts in, the lingering resentment still evident in his voice.

Hayner and alcohol don't mix. The results were regurgitated onto Roxas' brand new shoes. Something that never would have happened if Roxas hadn't tried to plant himself in between his intoxicated classmate and the wheel of said classmate's SUV. The altercation that thus ensued involved very many colorful terms and crescendoed in a water fountain like spurt of projectile vomit, compliments of the polished off vodka bottle Hayner had snuck into the gala.

The entire thing could have been avoided, which is the real tragedy of it all, because while the two alpha males were busy fighting over a set of car keys, Kairi had extracted her rather intense nail filer, and quietly went to work slashing all four of Hayner's tires without so much as a word.

"I still think you used a switch blade, for the record," Roxas adds, in memoriam. "Nail filers are not _that_ sharp."

"How would you know? Namine is my official Sephora shopping buddy now."

"Oh. Right. Because I almost died the last time I went in there. How could I forget?"

Kairi senses that Roxas is undergoing some weird male pride thing, not because he nearly lost to a rather pathetically plastered Hayner, and not because Marluxia was the one who exerted more public displays of affection than she in the now notorious make up store that Roxas had the right of mind to _sue_ had not one of the employees, ya know, saved his life and all – no, he was getting emo over the fact he could not provide for his girlfriend. And shoes.

She needed to find some way of remedying this. And fast.

"Roxas. Look at me."

He lifts his gaze from the tiled floor.

"Not at my boobs, Roxas. Me."

Here a ghost of a smirk flitters by his lips.

"Sorry, my neck doesn't bend that way. It'll hyperextend."

Kairi, now a woman on a mission, purses her lips together and says: "Okay, fine."

She then kicks off her platforms so she is now a foot shorter and directly under his nose.

"I'll look at _you_, then."

Roxas gapes. He's never seen Kairi toss her clothes aside with such reckless abandon.

(Well, except for this one time, in the backseat … )

"I would much, much rather have a boyfriend who is willing to tackle glomp his friend into the pavement so he doesn't take to the road shit faced than one who avoided the entire confrontation and was therefore able to buy me better graduation shoes because his were spared in the process."

Roxas fidgets.

"You left out the part where _he_ tackle glomped _me_."

"… I was conveniently forgetting that."

"You also conveniently forgot the part where, after upchucking on my shoes and curb stomping my face into the parking lot, Hayner was somehow able to negotiate the door, get inside his car, start the engine, and pretty much take off like nothing ever happened if only all four of his tires weren't slashed."

Kairi blinks.

Well. Yeah. That's kinda how it went. Kairi saved the day. Not him.

"I didn't want to squeeze a funeral into my plans," she tries to say dismissively. "I just don't have the time."

(Besides, the way she retells it, Hayner ends up hand cuffed in the trunk and Roxas plays hero by tearing apart the tires with his bare hands. Kairi swears she sat on a nearby bench and patiently waited for her glorious, muscle bound boyfriend to finish playing hero so he could take her home before curfew and score brownie points with her parents.)

"I just happened to pick out a good nail filer, is all."

Here she inserts a nonchalant shrug, and turns to enter the desired store.

It is also here where Roxas swings his arm around her shoulders, pulls his now bare footed girlfriend to his chest, kisses the crown of her head so tenderly she almost wants to cry, and says naught but, "Nah. I just happened to pick out a good girlfriend."

o-o-o-o

"Maybe you should put your platforms back on."

"No, I think I like being shorter than you for a change."

"But what if you step on a hypodermic needle or something?"

"Well, it wouldn't be our first time the mall sent us to the ER."

Roxas thinks of continuing the argument, because, really, he's serious about the needles – he saw a special on the Discovery Channel the other night while Axel pouted about not being able to watch his latest porno ("Axel, shut the hell up, you're on thin ice as it is. Consider it a miracle I even let you come over after trying to lick my girlfriend's face off." "Dude, you're still PMS-ing over that? That was, like, months ago. And are you actually, like, maturing or something? Because the Pre-Kairi Roxas I knew would much rather be taking notes off this lovely porno here than watching the frickin Discovery Channel." "Shh! The commercials are over, lemme here what they have to say next!") And thus he was consequently wary about letting his beloved girlfriend prance around bare foot, susceptible to all kinds of horrible diseases inflicted by various puncture wounds.

"Just what _were_ you doing watching the Discovery Channel anyway?"

For all her feigned cluelessness, Kairi was able to put two and two together awfully fast.

"Um. Liquid Sugar."

"I don't believe that," she decides to conclude. "You wouldn't waste your precious Liquid Sugar on Axel." Pause. "Why was he with you again?"

"You were at Sephora's picking out nail filers. I got lonely."

"That lonely?"

"Well. Yeah. And they had this thing on, like, beaches."

Kairi continues to look nonplussed.

"Beaches," she repeats, devoid of emotion.

"Yes. Beaches."

Silence.

"Whatever."

o-o-o-o

In all honesty, Roxas doesn't quite understand why the female population has such an affinity with shoes. It's not like his eyes ever travel that far down, anyway. Their money would be much better spent on, say, belts, because that's usually where the gandering ends and the imagining begins.

"Isn't alligator on the extinct species list?"

"I think you mean _endangered_ species list, Roxas," Kairi corrects, backtracking to where her boyfriend seems dumbfounded by a faux pair of alligator skinned slip ons. "If they were extinct then they couldn't make the shoes."

"Maybe they became extinct because of the shoes," he muses.

"Well, it wasn't these shoes then," Kairi says as she tries to take hold of Roxas' arm and drag him further into the depths of foot bondage. "They aren't real."

"How do you know?"

She looks at him dead pan.

"It's Payless, Roxas. Use your brain."

o-o-o-o

Kairi has fumbled her way through about ten pairs of heels, walking to and fro, testing each pair out relentlessly before she dares to commit to a single one. (Roxas wonders if she put this much thought into committing to _him_.)

She's on her eleventh pair when she spots Roxas flicking at the puffy snow balls originating from some nondescript pair of furry boots. She comes up behind him and watches as he inspects this apparently very engrossing phenomenon.

"Snow boots don't go with my outfit," she offers, leaning her chin on his shoulder, once again eye level thanks to the wonders of high heels.

"So that's what these are?"

He flicks one of the fluffy balls hanging precariously from a strategically placed string of yarn.

"What did you think they were?"

"I dunno. But they remind me of testicles. Not snow balls."

Here they let awkward silence run its course.

"Roxas, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."

"Pretend all you want, sweetheart, but these boots are definitely a nod to that feminist movement your always referencing. Susan B. Anthony probably owned a pair of these."

"Oh please. Susan B. Anthony wore buckles, Roxas. Not fluffy snow boots from Payless."

"If she were alive today, I bet she would."

"Tell you what. Next time we venture to the mall, we'll invest in a high class Ouija Board and ask her ourselves, kay?"

Roxas scrunches up his nose.

"Okay, if that's what you want. But you're gonna have to tell her you forgot to vote last year."

"I didn't forget," Kairi hisses, jabbing Roxas in the side. "You drove me to the voting booth. It's not _my_ fault we never made it out of the car."

Roxas tries to hide his smirk.

"Let's just blame it on my testicles."

Kairi tries to march away in a dither, even though she's choking from swallowing her own laughter, but doesn't get more than three feet before promptly falling flat on her face due to the lack of dexterity given her current footwear.

"Susan just tripped you."

"Roxas. Go to hell."

o-o-o-o

As Roxas sits on some hybrid of a mirror/booth/chair/thing, he watches Kairi don five more pairs of shoes before finally voicing his nagging inquiry.

"Why do girls like shoes so much, anyway?"

"Roxas," Kairi sighs. "Please. Why is air good to breathe?"

He has to think about this one.

"Gimme a sec, I'll come up with something."

As he sits there cultivating his mind for a good comeback (never mind it was five minutes in the making) he thinks he may have stumbled upon a good one liner when all of the sudden he hears Kairi squeal heinously from two aisles over.

All of the sudden Roxas finds himself hurtling over stray boxes and discarded shoes just to get to Kairi as quick as possible. He knows nothing life threatening can happen in a shoe store, but still. Male. Ego. Pride. You know how it goes.

(Then again, he did almost die in Sephora, so perhaps a shopping related demise isn't totally unfathomable at this point.)

"Kairi?" he exhales breathlessly, toppling over himself to be by her side.

She stands, traumatized, hands clasped over her mouth, staring at a pair of bright yellow, feathered leg warmers being modeled on some torso-less mannequin, who happens to be missing a good deal of her toes.

Since she is currently rendered incapable of speech – she points at the leg warmers.

Roxas takes the hint and tugs at the price tag attached to the item.

"Chocobo Leg Warmers. Genuine. One hundred percent pure chocobo."

He pauses.

Kairi, almost as if somehow hearing this apparent atrocity out loud was able to snap her out of her stupor, marches over to the nearest store employee and snags her by the wrist and literally drags the clueless girl to the display window.

"Please, for the love of all that is holy and sacred, tell me no real chocobos were harmed during the making of these leg warmers."

The clerk remains dumbfounded.

Kairi, unable to contain herself any longer, shakes the girl by the shoulders and practically shouts, "Those weren't animal tested, were they?!"

"Ma'am," the pale faced cashier begins, voice tremulous and cautionary, "those _are_ the animal."

Kairi squeals again – deafening, this time – and grabs Roxas by the arm to drag him out of the store.

But not before vomiting on his new/old shoes he managed to salvage from Good Will.

"Well," he grumbles, after all is said and done and the entire store is now looking at his puke covered sneakers. "I guess I'm in the right place."

o-o-o-o

Author's Notes

o-o-o-o

Yes, I know you can not slash a tire with a nail filer. But let me pretend. It's called fiction for a reason. XD

And – I can't believe I'm actually saying this – but OMGSH, the dénouement is almost here! Vixen may actually FINISH one of her multi-chaptered fanfictions!

-giggles deviously; for she knows the ending, and you do not-

Never fear, though. There are still three more psychotic chapters to go, plus an impending epilogue which may or may not birth insanity anew. Who knows? Depending on my chemical enhancement at the time (ah, liquid sugar, how I love thee) there's no telling what this vixen may do.

But what I MUST do, however, is thank you all for taking the time to read and comment with such creative encouragement and warm reception.

You guys are amazing.

If it were not for Kairi, Roxas would be willing to participate in a fangirl orgie with you all. But since he is otherwise preoccupied being repetitively, shall we say, voided upon, I can present you all with the ever charismatic Axel in his stead, who is still single at this point in the game.

Okay. If you'll excuse me; Vixen shall now go and attempt to tackle her Review Replies.

Though sometimes they eat her in the process. To which she can only hope to be regurgitated, much like Hayner's vodka.


End file.
